


Opposites Attract

by DeathByA1000Cuts



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Comic Book Science, Eddie Thawne Lives, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Henry Allen Lives, M/M, Rogues Freeform, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Some Explicit Language, no legends of tomorrow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 158,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByA1000Cuts/pseuds/DeathByA1000Cuts
Summary: Barry Allen’s life is in the usual turmoil. Zoom and his metas are trying to kill him. He’s dumped Patty ‘cause he didn’t want her in danger from his alter ego’s activities. He's having to find a way to integrate Wally West into his life as a brother and Iris is in the final stages of planning her wedding to Eddie. She’s even asked Barry to be her “Man of Honour”. All in all there’s a lot weighing on Barry right now and all he wants is some peace. A quiet drink alone at Saints and Sinners might be the solution but then he runs into Leonard Snart and an unlikely friendship starts to form, or is it something else?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts just after Flash S02E09 “Running to a Stand Still”. Slightly altered world but still series compliant. I’m seeing this story run until the end of Season 2 (and then we’ll see if I get it to go further). 
> 
> As much as it will follow the storyline of Season 2 I also plan for there to be a lot more of the Rogues and what they’re doing while Barry is fighting Zoom etcetera. So, some of the Season 2 storylines might be summarized when it isn’t so important.
> 
> This is the first Fanfic I’ve ever posted, so some feedback would be appreciated so I can get better in the future.

                Barry Allen pulled a stool from under the bar and sat down, quickly ordering a beer and then taking out his phone.  He sent Joe and Cisco a quick text telling them he was unavailable the rest of the night except for Flash metahuman emergency and he didn’t want to be contacted. He then took a while to look around the bar of Saints & Sinners.  It wasn’t high class by any means, but he had to admit that as a hang out for criminals and low-lifes it could be considerably worse.  It was well worn but not run down, old but clean.  The menu was basic but from the plate that was passed over the counter next to him it looked reasonable, so he ordered a large bowl of fries and settled in for the evening.

                He watched from over his beer as a group of bikers played darts and pool, joking and conversing over beers and liquor.  There were many other patrons, some more drunk than others but they didn’t seem like a threat to anyone, so Barry relaxed, letting his drink settle in his stomach as he waited for his food and thought about the shit-storm that was currently his life.

                Zoom was running amok, sending metas through to try and kill Barry at indeterminant times and they had no way yet to seal the breaches. He wasn’t fast enough to stop him. He’d decided to dump Patty ‘cause he wasn’t going to admit he was the Flash and put her in danger. He was having to try and find a way to integrate Wally West into his life as a brother (it was what Joe expected) and Iris was in the final stages of planning her wedding to Eddie. She’d even asked Barry to be her “Man of Honour”. While he wanted to support her and had said ‘yes’ it sounded like a bad idea on all levels. He groaned inwardly, not wanting to think about having to stand at the altar and give away the woman he loved to someone else.

                “Not the best place for an upstanding young man like you,” the sarcastic drawl was so familiar to him now that he didn’t even turn around despite his shock.

                “Thought you’d be hiding a lot lower than this,” Barry answered, drinking his beer.

                “No need for me to hide since the Flash got me off,” Snart told him, coming to rest against the bar beside him.  “I’m a free man, just out having a drink with a friend.”

                Barry looked around then.  Snart thrust his chin towards the back of the bar.  Mick Rory was sitting in one of the far booths, staring into a half empty beer.  Barry grunted and turned back to his drink.  “Good for you.”

                “What do you want, Barry?”  Snart demanded, his gaze expectant.

                “From you?  Nothing,” Barry answered.

                “Really?”  Snart replied, sceptically.  Barry wondered if he practiced drawing out words that long or if it was something that came naturally.

                “Just wanted to be somewhere nobody knows me,” Barry said, then looked up at Snart.  “Nobody that cares at least.”

                Snart raised an eyebrow but turned to order his drinks from the bartender. “Trouble in Flash land?”

                “Like you give a shit,” Barry muttered, taking another gulp of beer.

                “Oh Barry,” Snart said, handing over a few bills as his drinks were delivered.  “You know I care. After all, where would I be without my Scarlet Speedster?”

                “Doing time in Iron Heights for killing your father.”

                “True,” Snart admitted, picking up the two beers. “So not here looking for a reason to haul my arse back to prison?”

                “Having a night off,” Barry replied, gesturing to the bartender by waving his empty beer bottle.

                Snart managed to look slightly confused but nodded.  “Enjoy yourself Barry.”

                “Not likely,” Barry muttered as Snart walked away.

 

                It was odd but Barry felt more and more comfortable at Saints & Sinners as the days went on.  Every time he didn’t want to be found, he disappeared to the bar, eating fries and drinking beer that wouldn’t get him drunk. The music was low, the clientele kept to themselves and no one asked Barry any questions. More than a few times he saw Snart there, sometimes in the company of Rory but the man never said anything to him after that first night, for which Barry was grateful.  With everything else going on Snart was the least of his problems, especially since the man didn’t seem to be criminally active.

                One night about two weeks into his nearly nightly visits however, things were a little different. As soon as Barry walked in there was a different atmosphere and he quickly saw why.  There were two different motorcycle gangs in attendance by the symbols on their vests and also some other group, who though they were clearly together had no sign or symbol to designate them as anything in particular.

                Barry took his spot at the bar, ordering his usual and watching the tension build as the night and the alcohol wore on. Under normal circumstances he’d have gotten up and left, not wanting to be around for the fight he was sure was going to ensue, but he’d just spent the day with Iris tasting cakes and helping decide what flowers would be best for the bouquets. It had been uncomfortable for Barry in the extreme and he really wished Iris had chosen someone other than himself to fill in for Eddie when he couldn’t be there. He ordered another beer, just as the bar fight kicked off.  Well, not really a fight yet but there was plenty of swearing and people being in other people’s faces.

                “Don’t think you’ll want to stay here much longer, lovely,” a voice said beside him.

                He turned to find a middle-aged man smiling at him, resting a hand on the bar, right next to his.  He had dark blonde hair, shot through with grey.  It was long, pulled back in a rough pony tail with large parts falling out behind his ears.  He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but the leer his mouth formed when considering Barry was certainly a turn off, even if Barry had been interested.

                “I can handle myself,” Barry replied.

                “Oh, I’m sure you can,” the man told him. “But you could also handle me, if you wanted.”

                “Dude, seriously not interested,” Barry told him.

                “Oh, come now,” the guy put a hand on Barry’s shoulder.  “Pretty thing like you doesn’t come to a place like this for no reason.  You’re looking for something.  Something you won’t find anywhere else.”

                “There’s plenty of places to find drunk old men who never left the seventies,” Barry answered with disdain, shaking the man’s hand away from his shoulder and turning back to the bar, beckoning the bartender for another beer.

                “So sure o’ yourself,” the man muttered as he walked away.  “You’ll learn better.”

                Half an hour later the first punches were thrown and Barry decided it was time to beat a retreat before he got caught up in it.  He paid out his tab and found himself in the carpark, looking around to make sure no one was going to see him speed away.

                “Well now, lovely,” a familiar voice said from the dark.  “You left it a bit late to leave.”

                Barry groaned and turned.  The blonde was stepping out of the dark shadows beside the building.  There were three others with him. “Seriously, you had to bring friends?”

                “Oh, we all appreciate a nice young thing like you,” he replied and they began to fan out.  In no time Barry found himself surrounded.

                Adrenalin began to flood his system and he had to fight the lightning threatening to speed him away in front of these men and give away his identity.

                “Guys, please just take ‘no’ for an answer,” he begged knowing this wasn’t going to end well.

                “Not our style, lovely,” Blondie answered, closing the space between them.

                To Barry’s credit he did land the first punch.  There was a satisfying crunch to Blondie’s nose breaking accompanied by a harsh bend and pain in Barry’s wrist as it sprained. After that, it was all them. Blondie recovered and landed a punch to Barry’s right eye, knocking him off balance.  Someone elbowed him in the middle of the back and he was down. It was a far too familiar position, being on the ground being beaten up.  Bullies had him there more than a few times during his childhood.  But those kids had never had the skill or drive to do him serious damage, these men did.  A violent kick from heavy soled boots took him in the side and he was aware of a dull crack of his ribs snapping as he cried out in agony. It started to hurt when he breathed. More punches and kicks followed. These guys knew exactly where to hit to do the most damage.  The vision in his right eye began to go as it started to swell shut, the other blurred as blood from a cut above it ran down.  His grunting and groans turned to a scream as one of them stomped down on his left leg with a resounding crack.

                His vision began to go black at the edges as pain threatened to overtake him.  Then there were other sounds, rushing feet, more heavy punches and a deep threatening growl that sounded manic and delighted.

                “Go, get out of here!” one of his attackers cried in fear, and then more running feet.

                Barry forced one eye open.  They were gone.  He could see a large silhouette, someone with their back to him as he watched his attackers retreat.

                “Cowards,” the man growled low, still a threat in his voice and Barry wondered if his saviour would be worse.

                Then someone was leaning over him.  “Barry?”

                “Snart?”  he managed to groan out, he was sure several of his teeth were loose.

                Snart sighed and shook his head, sounding entirely disappointed.  “Barry, Barry, Barry.”

                Barry let his head fall back to the concrete and let darkness take him.

 

                Barry groaned softly to the feel of a warm wet cloth being pressed against his skin.

                “Lay still,” Snart commanded as Barry tried to move.

                Pain exploded across his entire body as he tried to shift.  He opened one eye, the one that wasn’t swollen shut. He was laying on a bed in an unadorned room in a place he didn’t know.

                “Where?” he managed to murmur.  His jaw ached and felt as swollen as his eye.

                “One of my safehouses,” Snart replied.  “Shut up and stay still. You’ve got multiple breaks and I don’t know about internal bleeding yet.”

                “Why here?”

                “Well I didn’t think I could just dump you at a hospital, and you seemed determined _not_ to go to STAR Labs or detective West’s house.”

                Barry sighed and saved his other questions until his jaw had healed a bit better. He didn’t remember being conscious to voice his request. Of course he didn’t want to go back to STAR Labs like this. Didn’t want to hear Caitlin lecture him while Cisco, Harry and Jay stood in the background looking worried as they called Joe and Iris.

                Snart was dipping the cloth back in a bowl of water beside him, squeezing out the excess that ran pink with Barry’s blood. Barry watched through his one eye as Snart pressed the cloth back to his forehead again, wiping at the cut on his brow with delicate strokes. His clear blue eyes, usually so guarded and cynical showed nothing but concern in that moment.

                “That’ll need stitches,” he muttered to himself.

                Barry shook his head, causing a wave of pain so bad his stomach swam, threatening to empty but Barry gulped it back down.  “Meta healing,” he managed to get out.

                Snart grunted but kept working until the wound was completely clean.  The door opened behind him and Mick Rory entered, carrying more medical supplies.

                “Tell me again why we’re helping this idiot kid?”  he demanded in an irritated growl.

                “Because I said so Mick,” Snart replied with just as much force.

                Rory grunted.  “Whatever but you get to explain it to Lisa when she gets back.  You know she’ll want more explanation than that.”

                “My problem,” Snart replied, already moving to a cut on Barry’s shoulder.

                Rory left without another word.

                Barry turned his head at the first sting of the fabric against the wound, frowning. He didn’t remember getting that particular damage.  He was also aware that he was missing his shirt. He shifted his hips, realising he was also missing his pants.  He was naked in front of Captain Cold?  He knew he should be embarrassed but he didn’t have the energy at the moment.

                “What’s that?”  he asked, his voice rough.

                “Knife,” Snart replied.  “You remember the knife.”

                “No,” Barry admitted, turning his head away.

                “You didn’t see a six-inch blade coming at you?”  Snart was suddenly angry, throwing the stained cloth down into a bin at his feet with unnecessary force.  “Fuck Barry, how do you even survive?”

                Barry closed his eyes, remembering Zoom, holding him like a rag doll. “Luck,” he murmured, trying to lose the image but still the memory had tears welling in his eyes.

                “That’s obvious,” Snart snarled.  “If it hadn’t been for me and Mick -.”

                “Yeah, I get it,” Barry ground out.  Snart suddenly sounded like Joe and the last thing Barry needed was a lecture.

                There was silence for a few minutes as Snart continued to work at his wounds.  There was another slash further down his arm and a huge amount of bruising everywhere.  Barry didn’t remember the attack going on that long but it must have.

                “Why didn’t you just run?”  he asked after a while.

                “They’d seen me.”

                “Four drunk deadbeats in the carpark of a downtown bar and you think they were a threat to your secret identity?  Tell me another one, Barry.”

                He sighed.  “Always running.”

                There was silence at that for a moment.  “Your trouble is you never run.”

                “Running now.” The words came out before Barry could stop them.  He felt the flush rise up his cheeks as he closed his eyes again, not wanting to see how Snart reacted to that.

                “I’m gonna check your ribs,” the criminal said then. “I’m pretty sure at least two are broken.”

                Barry nodded without opening his eyes.  A moment later long cool fingers were deftly probing at his side, gentle but still eliciting a gasp of pain as he touched each rib.

The touch ended and Snart let out a grunt.  “Three on your left side but not too bad. Doesn’t look like they’ve punctured anything.”

                The fingers were on his right side then, the light caresses strangely comforting as no pain accompanied them this time. Barry was sorry when they stopped.

                Snart was leaning over him then.  “Now we come to the kicker.  Your left leg is broken, I’m going to have to set it.  It’s gonna hurt like hell.”

                “Been there before,” Barry answered through the pain in his jaw.  “Get on with it.”

                Snart looked worried at Barry’s easy acceptance but nodded and disappeared from his view.  There were a few moments as Snart put his hand on Barry’s lower leg light and careful but still painful.  Barry reached for the pillow that was lying beside him, shoving it over his face.

                When it came, he was given no warning. The agony brought a different type of lightning to his eyes, this one white, taking his vision as he screamed into the pillow.  He lay there panting and gasping, trying to stay conscious as the world spun around him.  The pillow was removed from his face and Snart was looking at him in concern.

                He nodded to tell the thief he was alright, still floating in the aftermath of the pain. He closed his eyes again, taking a few deep breaths to slow his heart and ease his discomfort.

                “How long will it take these to heal?”  Snart asked then, rummaging amongst his supplies.

                “Tomorrow afternoon,” Barry told him.  “I should be able to walk by then.”

                Snart lifted a syringe.

                “What’s that?” Barry asked, suddenly suspicious.

                “Painkiller,” he replied, simply.  “It’ll probably knock you out for a few hours too.”

                “No -,” Barry started, trying to rise.

                “Shut up, kid,” Snart told him. “I’ve had enough of your stubbornness for one night.”

                Barry really wanted to fight him but didn’t have the energy. He wanted to tell Snart that anything he injected him with would be burned out of his system too fast, that there was no point. The needle in his arm felt like nothing after everything he’d just been through and he let himself relax back in the bed as Snart watched the needle.

                The drug started to run through his system, taking away the pain and causing a soft floating sensation as he drifted towards sleep.  He knew neither effect would last long but he was grateful for the short reprieve nonetheless. Only when the pain was completely gone did he begin to think clearly enough to realise exactly how stupid he’d been tonight and how much worse it could have been.

                “Snart,” he murmured as his eyes closed again.

                There was a cool hand on his cheek. “Yeah?”

                “Thanks.”

                The last thing he felt was a thumb stroking across his cheek and under his eye, warm moisture smearing over his skin.

 

                When he woke the next day, he felt nearly paralysed.  Every movement was accompanied by flashes of pain that made him reluctant to move further.  Eyes still closed, he took stock of himself.  His leg was the worst, aching and throbbing. He could breathe a lot better, his ribs must have healed themselves as he slept. His head ached badly, but like he had a hangover rather than a borderline concussion, which was definitely an improvement. Shifting slightly, he became aware he was still naked, though covers had been thrown over him.

                The swelling around his eye had gone down completely overnight so he could see out of both again. He blinked in confusion before the events of last night fully came back to him. He groaned in shame, laying his arms over his face, trying to hide from the world even more than he was right now.

                 He felt the bed shift under him. His eyes snapped open and he wrenched his gaze to the right, where Leonard Snart was lying on his side, head propped up on one elbow as he surveyed Barry with concerned curiosity.

                “Good morning, Barry,” he said, again every syllable drawn out.

                Barry groaned. “What are you doing there?”

                “Well it is my bed Barry, where else would I sleep the night?”

                “But -.”  Barry started but Snart just lifted an amused eyebrow that had Barry blushing to the roots of his hair.

                Snart chuckled and rolled out from under the covers.  Much to Barry’s relief he was wearing sweats and a long sleeve t-shirt. He walked around the bed and came to sit down beside Barry, beginning to check his injuries.

                He let out an incredulous huff.  “You do heal fast, Scarlet.”

                “Still hurts,” Barry replied before he could stop himself.

                “Don’t whine, it’s unbecoming in a superhero,” Snart told him, pulling back the covers to reveal Barry’s chest.

                Barry was blushing again as the man’s hands began to probe at his ribs.  “Does that hurt?”

                “No, it -,” Barry jerked as one finger hit a particularly sensitive spot.  “- tickles,” he finished lamely.

                Snart’s signature smirk formed and for a moment it felt like any of their past encounters. Then Snart was throwing the blankets back to reveal Barry’s leg, though thankfully he didn’t expose all his lower body.  Again, long deft fingers stroked and prodded at him asking how it felt.  It was still tender but most of the bruising had gone and though it ached Barry could tell it would only be a matter of hours before he’d be up and around.

                Snart nodded, satisfied.  “Your shirt was covered in blood and we had to cut your jeans off because of your leg.  I’ve sent Lisa to get you new clothes.  She should be back soon.”

                “What did you tell her?”  he asked, curious if Snart had managed to keep his promise.

                “That you were a CSI I’d met during the course of everything,” he replied.  “And that helping you out would prove useful in the future.”

                Barry nodded, knowing this was more than likely true. Snart would have no problem holding this over him to get something he wanted.  That was the least of Barry’s problems right now.

                “I should call in -,”

                “Already done,” Snart told him, handing Barry his phone.  “I sent texts to Joe, Iris and Ramon, letting them know you were off grid for the rest of the day.”

                “I have a passcode on this,” Barry declared in surprise, looking through the texts to make sure they weren’t anything inappropriate.

                Snart rolled his eyes.  “Oh, please.” He got up from the bed, throwing the covers back over him.  “I’ll get you something to eat.”

                Barry’s eyes widened.  “You told Cisco I got laid last night?!”

                “It’s as close as I could get to the truth,” Snart explained with a shrug.  “After all, we did sleep together.” Snart left, closing the door behind him.

                Barry felt his face heating up again, as he continued to look through his phone.  Thankfully the messages to Joe and Iris were a lot more sedate.  God knew what he was going to tell Cisco.  He’d think about that later. He was sick of lying down, so painfully pushed himself up into a sitting position, pulling the covers up as far as they’d go to cover his bare chest.

                The door opened and Lisa Snart strode into the room, her expression hopeful as if she were about to see something she shouldn’t.  She was carrying a large plastic bag, which she held up for him to see.  “New clothes, sweetie.”

                “Thanks,” Barry nodded.  “I’ll pay you back when I get a chance.”

                “No need,” she said, sitting down beside him, taking a minute to examine his wounds the way Snart just had.  Her gaze kept dropping to his eyes though as if she was trying to meet gaze with him.  He kept his eyes on his phone as much as possible, pretending to look through his emails.

                “Hmm,” she said eventually.  “I wonder what Lenny was so worried about? These don’t seem nearly as bad as he made out last night.”

                Barry didn’t look up.  “Yeah, I told him I was okay,” he muttered.

                She pinned him with a shrewd stare not moving for a long minute.  Barry finally lifted his gaze to her. “What?”

                He saw it then, the recognition in her eyes as her head lifted just a little.  She smiled like the preverbal cat who caught the canary. “Nothing Barry, you just get better. I’m sure Lenny will be back soon.”

                She sashayed out of the room without another word and Barry groaned.  She knew.

                Twenty minutes later Snart returned, juggling a tray of food.  Barry’s stomach growled at the smell, loud enough that Snart cocked an eyebrow at him, smirking again.

                Barry ate like he hadn’t eaten for a week, his meta healing abilities taking as much out of him as running did.  There was a look of mild surprise of Snart’s features as Barry wiped up the last of the runny egg yolk with the last piece of toast.

                “What?”  he asked, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

                “You’ve finished that in record time,” he told him.  “All of, five minutes, record.”

                “Oh, well,” Barry was a little embarrassed.  “It’s the way my body works.  I need a lot more calories to keep me going.”

                Snart nodded his expression thoughtful.  “More?”

                Barry considered that.  He really did want more.  “I’ve put you out enough,” he replied.

                Snart smiled, a genuine smile that reached the clear blue of his eyes, softening them in a way Barry had never seen.  “I’m not busy doing anything else.”  He took the tray.  “I’ll be back.”

                The second plate was as good as the first.  Perfect poached eggs, just the right amount of crisp on the edge of the bacon.  By the end of it Barry was finally feeling full.

                “That was great, thanks,” he told Snart, the food putting him in a better mood. “So why aren’t you busy?  Not in the final stages of planning another heist?”

                “Oh, Scarlet,” Snart replied, taking the tray.  “You know if I was I’d never tell you.”

                Barry grinned suddenly feeling much better. He closed his eyes lifting his arms over his head, letting out a soft groan as he stretched tight muscles.  When he opened his eyes again Snart was standing with his hand on the door handle.  Had he been watching him? The thief turned and left without another word.

                The rest of the day passed quietly, almost domestically. Barry stayed in bed and Snart looked after him, even more attentive than Caitlin would have been.

                Not long after breakfast Snart returned, dressed in his usual skinny jeans and a long sleeved shirt in muted tones.  He was carrying a hardback book. Barry was surprised when he sat down on the bed next to him and began to read.

                “What?” Snart demanded not looking up after Barry had been watching him for several minutes.

                “Um, just why here?”  he asked, confused.  It’s not like he needed constant attention, his wounds were healing fine on their own. “Don’t you have a whole apartment?”

                “Lisa’s watching the TV. Can’t concentrate with all the noise,” he replied, still not looking up.  “Besides, I usually read here anyway.”

                “Okay,” Barry conceded, looking at the book for the first time.  “Agatha Christie?”

                “What of it? Don’t think I’d like a good mystery?”

                “No, it fits,” Barry replied.  “You like to solve puzzles, that’s all murder mysteries are.  Just never took you for the classics, that’s all.”

                “So much more to the Leonard onion than you know, Scarlet,” he drawled.  “Rest.”

                Barry huffed in amusement but closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep again in a few minutes.

                It was late that afternoon when Barry finally felt his leg was ready to go.  His phone told him it was nearly 6pm when he stepped out of Snart’s shower feeling close to human again. The jeans Lisa had bought him were nearly the same as the ones he’d lost, and the red check button down shirt looked good on him.  Both fit perfectly.  He wondered about that for a moment, but he thought she probably took the sizes from his old clothes.  There was no men’s hair product, neither Snart nor Rory having enough hair to warrant it, so Barry simply raked his fingers through his damp locks and let it go at that until he got home.  Home.  He grimaced as he pulled on his sneakers. He was going to have to face Joe and Wally and probably Iris as well.  There had also been two texts from Cisco demanding to know about last night, which he hadn’t answered yet.  He stared into the mirror.  He looked as tired and worn out as he felt. There were still bags under his eyes and his cheeks looked sunken in the bright fluorescents of Snart’s bathroom.

                He sat back on the toilet and let out an incredulous chuckle.  He was in Captain Cold’s bathroom having been saved like some useless damsel in distress by said supervillain. He even had the equivalent of a sprained ankle.  And to his amazement he was feeling more comfortable here than his own home.  He dropped his head into his hands as a sudden wave of emotion came over him.  Tears were squeezing out of his eyes.  He had no point of thought for the feeling, only that everything suddenly came crashing in on him all at once. Iris and Eddie, Wally’s appearance in their lives, having to let Patty go, Zoom and everything he’d done to him and still had the potential to do.  It was weighing heavier than Barry had thought, and a day off in Snart’s bed (yeah that sounded bad even as Barry thought it), had given him a break from those pressures.  He hadn’t even thought about them.  Now they were threatening to drag him down again.

                He took a long shuddering breath and pulled himself together, pushing it all down and away, thinking instead of how much pizza he intended to eat when he got home, and what god-awful story he was going to tell Cisco about the one-night stand that definitely hadn’t been with Captain Cold.  He made himself laugh at that and the emotions finally dissipated.

                Snart was sitting at the kitchen counter, still reading when Barry emerged.  The criminal looked up, closing the hardcover. He watched Barry closely.

                “I, uh, called an Uber,” Barry told him, feeling awkward like he was imposing in someone’s home, which he supposed he was.  “I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

                “Not running out on me?”  Snart asked his usual smirk in place.

                Barry smiled.  “Nah, leg’s still a bit stiff.  It’ll be right by tomorrow but better if I don’t push it.” He took a stool next to the thief.

                “Thanks again,” he said, not really knowing how to express the gratitude he felt.

                Snart watched him silently for a long drawn out minute that had Barry squirming. “Why didn’t you run last night? Why did you want the crap beaten out of you?”

                Barry dropped his head in his hands, the question threatening to burst the dam of emotion again. “I’m not good enough, not fast enough,” he admitted, not knowing why he was suddenly opening up and shamed by how his voice shook.  “I just keep losing.” His phone dinged.  “That’s my ride.”

                He stood up giving Snart one last nod and went to the door.

                “See ya round Flash,” Snart called.

                Barry grinned.  “Later, Cold.”

 

                “Well that was an interesting visit,” Lisa said, coming out of the second bedroom an hour later.

                “Don’t start sis,” Len replied.

                “Don’t start what?  I’m just saying, it’s not every day we have such pretty unexpected guests.”

                Len looked up as she leant against the counter.

                “Especially ones who work for CCPD,” she continued, watching her brother closely.  “What did you say he was, a CSI?  Looks a little young for it, must be good at his job, or has connections in the right places.”

                “A combination of both as I understand it,” Len told her, going back to his book.

                “Ah,” she said, going to the sink and pouring a glass of water.  “Seems too cute to be a geeky science type.”

                “Says the girl with a crush on Cisco Ramon,” he replied without looking up.

                She smiled. “True I guess. This Barry is much the same as him.  Nice smile, gorgeous eyes.  They’re such a beautiful hazel flecked through with green.  Only ever seen eyes like that once before.”

                Len’s gaze snapped up to meet Lisa’s, his expression threatening.  She met it for a long moment before relenting and she let out a sigh.

                She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leaning down until their cheeks touched.  “Please be careful Lenny,” she said.  “He’s lovely but it’s way too complicated.”

                “You know I don’t do complicated, Lise,” he told her.

                “No, you’ve never found anything that was worth complicated,” she retorted softly. “I’m just saying, this is more so than usual.” She kissed his cheek softly and Len lifted a hand rubbing her forearm gently. “I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

                “There’s nothing to be hurt by, Lise,” Len replied.  “He’s an asset like any other.”

                She huffed in frustration and let go of him. “Right. I’m going out, there’s a new club that needs testing.”

                “Be safe,” he replied.  It was a long time since he’d worried about Lisa being able to handle herself but he still felt he needed to say the words.

                After she left, the apartment suddenly seemed empty and more than a little lonely.  Len frowned.  Lonely was not an emotion he did.  Usually the dark and silence were comforting to him, giving him the planning and thinking space his life revolved around.  But he was very much aware that the bed in his room was now empty.

                At Christmas, when Barry had accused him of being a terrible villain Len had felt an uncharacteristic bout of conscience. After leaving Barry’s house he’d gone to the nearest police station, turning himself in and returning to Iron Heights to await trial for the attempted theft of the diamonds and the murder of his father. He was more than a little surprised when not only Ramon and Snow but also the Flash himself had turned up at his trial as witnesses, proving with clear scientific evidence that he’d been coerced into working for his father and had acted in self-defence when killing him. It had taken the jury all of half an hour to acquit him and Len found himself a free man without a criminal record for the first time since his childhood.

He’d quit Central City for a few weeks, relocating Lisa, Mick and himself to Coast City. It seemed best to be somewhere else for a while. The jobs there had been easy without Scarlet to interfere or without a police force that was ready for their guns. They’d made more than enough to live well for the next couple of years without pulling another job.  But Len grew bored.  There was no challenge without Barry now. He was the one impossible variable that always had Len looking for new angles, trying new tactics. So, he’d packed them up and brought them back to Central.

                When he’d first seen Barry at the bar of Saints & Sinners he thought perhaps the kid had come looking for him, driven by some do-gooder mentality to make sure Len was alright since killing his father. He’d been surprised to find Barry so angry, so desperate to seek out solitude.  He knew how close the kid held family and friends. He was also disappointed that Barry wasn’t at all interested in him, as if the ‘friendly adversary’ relationship they’d developed no longer existed. Len had worked hard to get Barry to notice him, to make sure the Flash knew Captain Cold was someone to be reckoned with.  Now it seemed they were back to square one. So, he’d taken to watching his target, sitting in a dark booth at the back of the bar, sometimes with Mick, most times not.

                What he’d seen had worried him.  Barry looked burdened, almost downtrodden.  He knew Barry was the typical hero type, always taking the weight of the world on his shoulders but this was different. It looked like the kid was about to break, his expression often agonised as dark thoughts clearly showed on his face.  Len worried about how much the kid was drinking but could see now his metabolism meant the four or more beers he drank each night wouldn’t affect him.

                Like the gifted criminal he was, Len began to do his research.  He looked into the recent attacks by metahumans, found the footage of Zoom holding Barry up, his back broken, shaking him like a ragdoll for all of Central City to see. He even managed to acquire security footage from CCPD with the whole precinct unloading clips uselessly at the black clad speedster while Barry hung limp in one hand.  Len’s gut had twisted at the images. How long had it taken the speedster to recover from those wounds?  Certainly the kid wouldn’t have been able to walk for a certain amount of time. Then to get his confidence back to start running again?  Len became aware from watching Barry that that confidence hadn’t been fully restored. Mardon had been right, Zoom had showed all Central Barry wasn’t strong enough to protect any of them from the new threat. That had to be a huge blow to the kid. Then he’d read the engagement announcement in the paper, Iris West to detective Eddie Thawne.  It had to be another blow.  Len could hardly fail to notice the kid’s heart in his eyes when he looked at his foster sister.

                He was at a loss as to what to do, either to help him get his edge back or notice Len himself again. Any job he might pull was below anything Barry was facing now.  The question was how to stay relevant without drawing Barry’s ire. He certainly wouldn’t take kindly to anyone distracting the Flash’s attention from Zoom and his minions.

                Then Len had been blessed, as if somehow the universe had been looking out for him.  He and Mick had evaded the bar brawl at Saints & Sinners (much to Mick’s disappointment) only to find Barry Allen being beaten to a pulp by a gang of would-be rapists in the carpark. As soon as Barry had mumbled brokenly about not going to STAR Labs Len had seized his chance and taken the boy back to a safehouse. Len found himself as close to heaven as he’d ever allowed himself. The kid was there, under his control, his injuries meaning Len was free to touch him as much as he liked. Barry had taken the help with little resistance and hadn’t flinched at any of Len’s moves to assist.

                When he’d finally fallen asleep Len had allowed himself the extra pleasure of lying beside him, watching with no small amount of awe at how quickly the kid healed.  He’d felt no hesitation in reaching out to caress the swollen bruises that were rapidly disappearing from his face. Len had been ready to let his hands wander further, to explore that finely sculpted runner’s body, when Barry had begun to stir.

                At first Len thought it was the drugs wearing off, but it didn’t take long for him to see Barry was in torment, even in his sleep.  Barry began to toss, trying to roll.  Len had grabbed him up, making sure he couldn’t move in case he reopened a knife wound or damaged his broken leg more.  He’d wrapped his arms around the speedster tucking Barry’s head under his chin.  The young man settled at his touch, but his broken body was still tense with whatever was going through his mind.  He’d mumbled a lot of names, mostly Zoom, Iris and Patty, whoever that was.  There were tears on his cheeks even in sleep and Len found himself wiping them away with a light touch.

                The thief had considered waking him then, if for no other reason than to assuage his own feeling of helplessness at the situation, when Barry finally let go. To Len’s amazement the kid had rolled in towards him, sliding an arm lightly around Len’s waist and burying his face in his neck.

                “Len,” he’d murmured in a broken sob that managed to rip at the criminal’s heart.

                All thoughts of what he wanted to do with the speedster disappeared and he’d simply run a hand lightly up and down Barry’s bare back, speaking the same quiet words he used when Lisa had a bad night, trying to comfort him back to dreamless sleep.  After a few minutes Barry’s tortured body had finally relaxed, letting the criminal hold him close.

                “Mm, Len,” he murmured one more time, the word little more than a breathy whisper of warm air into Len’s neck, causing him to shiver.

                After that Barry had been still, resting comfortably through the night as his body put itself back together. Len meanwhile felt like he was coming apart. He’d said his name.  For the first time ever Barry had called him Len. Not Cold, not Snart, not even Leonard. What the hell did that mean?  Probably not much, the kid was having nightmares and was delirious with painkillers. But somehow to Leonard Snart it was significant.  On some level Barry must see him as something other than the murderous criminal he’d first met. Len wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He’d wanted the Flash’s attention in order to give his life the adrenalin he craved.  He’d looked down at the finally peaceful face, the bruises faded to dull smudges on his brow and jaw and had wondered if he was beginning to want more from Barry than just the Flash.

                When Barry had woken next morning Len had already removed himself from within arms reach and the kid seemed to have no memory of his bad night. They’d passed the day easily together, the kid napping and eating by turns as his body finally completed its healing process. After the first few awkward questions about why Len was reading on the bed Barry had accepted his presence, seeming to be completely relaxed in the company of a man who’d betrayed him more than once. Kid was an idiot, but a good, trusting, gorgeous idiot.

                And now he’d left, shocking Len with his admission he felt he wasn’t good enough. It was like Barry trusted him with the information, like he knew Len wouldn’t try to use it against him.  It had been an admission to a friend. Len frowned down at his book. When had they become friends? He had to mark it at that moment when Barry had told him Lisa was safe from their father’s bomb. That moment when Len had shot his father and Barry had stood there and let him. Kid could have sped the Cold Gun out of his hand but he didn’t.  He’d let Len have his revenge. That still troubled him.  Barry was a hero, he didn’t approve of killing in the slightest and yet, he’d let it happen. Perhaps one day he’d ask him. But then again perhaps he wouldn’t like the answer. Putting it out of his mind for now, he turned his attention to the issue of how he really felt about Barry as opposed to the Flash, and what he was going to do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Yeah. Len does an awful lot of thinking, thus the long passages of text with no dialogue – hope that isn’t too jarring for people.
> 
> Next Chapter: Len begins his plans to woo Barry, though it seems the kid is completely oblivious to his efforts


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The STAR Labs Team head out for an evening at a local art gallery but the night has its ups and downs.

                 Barry gave everyone the same story.  He’d gone out for a quiet drink, met a girl who seemed nice at the time but had ended up being someone he didn’t want to see again, especially when she hadn’t given him her real name, or phone number the next day. Cisco and Caitlin believed him, the former happy to commiserate about bad dates.  Joe was a different matter.  Joe’s detective brain knew when he was being lied too, especially since he’d noticed Barry’s night time disappearances more than the others. He let it go eventually, not wanting to push Barry too hard but told him it better not affect his work anymore.

                Iris hadn’t pushed about it at all. She was way too busy planning the wedding to be worried about Barry’s supposed love life. He was made aware of that again the next day, as he met her at Jitters for coffee. He was seated at a table not far from the counter, watching the flow of people in and out of the café when she arrived. The handbag she carried these days had tripled in size to accommodate ‘The Folder’.

                She slid into the seat across from him, pulling it out without a pause. “I swear, I’m looking forward to the wedding, just so I can stop carrying this thing.”

                “Why do you take it everywhere?”  Barry asked, watching as she opened the thick ring-binder.

                “Because,” she told him. “If the venue calls or the cake decorator, I need the details at my fingertips.”

                “Okay, so for what have I been summoned?”  Barry asked, wondering what other matrimonial detail she needed help with. He’d already gone to view samples of invitations with her, though had staunchly refused to attend dress shopping even if he was Man-of-Honour.

                “It wasn’t a summons,” she exclaimed sounding offended.

                “Ah, ‘ _Barry I need you at Jitters today at lunch or your life will be over’_ ,” he did his best impression of her. “That’s a summons.”

                She sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Sorry, it’s just everything is getting so close and I’m starting to panic.”

                “Iris, everything is under control,” Barry told. “You totally have this.  Everything is going to be perfect.”

                “Have you finished your speech yet?”

                Barry hesitated.  “It’s…a thing…in progress.”

                She stared at him her expression quickly becoming unhappy.

                “Don’t worry,” he told her, taking her hands across the table.  “I’ve still got three weeks.  I’ll have it done.”

                “It better be amazing,” she told him her eyes narrowing.

                He flailed for something say for a moment. “It will be…phenomenal.”

                She grinned and drank down her coffee. “Linda wants to contact you about the Bachelorette night.”

                “Iris, I am not going to your Bachelorette night,” Barry told her. “That would just be weird on all levels.”

                “Not about going – you may be man of Honour but it’s girls only,” Iris informed him, for which he was grateful. “She’s still looking for venues and wanted some advice.”

                “Okay, Linda’s the one who knows more about bars and clubs in Central City than anyone,” Barry said. “What does she want my advice for?”

                “I have no idea but she said she was going to call you, so it’s just a heads up.”

Her phone rang and she answered it as soon as she saw the ID.

                “Yeah,” she said by way of greeting, her face quickly becoming tense and animated.  “Yeah, okay I’ll be there, ten minutes, okay?”

                She drank down the rest of her coffee in two large gulps and grabbed up her handbag.  “That’s an informant of mine. They have info for a story I’m working on, gotta go.”  She quickly leaned across the table and kissed his cheek quickly. “We will finish this conversation later.”

                “Bye,” he called after her as she sped from the café. It was then he noticed she’d left the folder behind on the table.  He thought about going after her but then decided against it.  It might do her some good not to be burdened by it for a few hours. He’d just give it to Eddie when he got back to the station.

                With a sigh he pulled it towards him.  The whole thing was there, examples of the cake, designs for the bridesmaid dresses, the flower arrangements for the tables, copies of the menu. Everything a girl needed to get married.  To someone who wasn’t Barry.

                He sighed again and took another sip of coffee. When Eddie had shot himself to make sure Eobard Thawne never existed it had been a shock to everyone.  What had been a greater shock was that while Barry and Firestorm were trying to close the singularity, Caitlin had been working feverishly with Iris and Joe in the Cortex medical lab to resuscitate Eddie.  His heart had stopped half a dozen times during the operation, but Caitlin had finally managed to remove the bullet and stabilise the detective.  They still didn’t know what it meant for the timeline. Reverse Flash had still dissolved out of existence even though Eddie was now alive and well.  Did that mean this wedding wasn’t going to happen after all? Did it mean that Eddie and Iris would never have kids?  None of them could say and Barry was at a loss to know what it meant for his life. As the weeks went on though he’d resolved to let Iris go.  The more likely it looked like the wedding was going to take place, the more he had to distance himself from her. It was ripping him apart but he had to keep it together for her happiness and his own.

                “Ooh, red for the bridal party.”

                Barry jumped at sarcastic drawl.  “What the hell, Snart!?” He turned to find the criminal right behind him, leaning over his shoulder and gazing at the open folder.

                He was smirking at Barry, clearly happy he’d made him jump. “Bit of an insensitive choice isn’t it?” he asked, moving to take the seat opposite Barry and pulling the folder towards him.

                Barry stared in confusion.  “What are you doing here?”

                “Getting coffee,” Snart replied, still looking at the folder.  “It’s what one does in a coffee shop.”

                “I mean here, at this table,” Barry demanded, trying to keep his voice down.

                He waved vaguely towards the counter.  “It lets me sit while I wait, and still hear my name.”

                “Central Grove Parklands,” he said, looking at the brochures for the venue Iris and Eddie had chosen. He looked up at Barry.  “Pretty pricey as function centres go.”

                Barry shrugged taking another sip. “Eddie’s parents are helping pay.  And they’re also providing the honeymoon.  A month in France and Italy.”

                “Nice,” Snart replied, focusing on the menu now.

                “Just don’t mention it to Joe unless you want to get shot,” Barry told him with a huff. Joe was still angry about Eddie’s parents helping to pay for Iris wedding. But there was no way Joe was going to be able to afford the type of show Eddie’s parents expected for their son.

                Barry shook his head in frustration.  “Why am I even telling you this?  For that matter why are you interested in this?”

                “Just passing the time,” Snart replied, turning back to the pages with the outfit designs on them.  “How’s the leg?”

                Barry paused. “Good, thanks,” he replied, quietly.

                “Nice to know my efforts weren’t wasted,” Snart didn’t look at him but frowned at the page. It had swatches of fabric stuck to it. “Which one did she choose?”  he asked.

                “Ah, the plain red brocade with the paisley pattern,” Barry replied.  He really hadn’t been paying much attention to the choices. “Why is red an insensitive choice?”

                “Thought you’d have wanted to save that colour for your own wedding, Scarlet.”

                Barry laughed, trying not to let it sound bitter but Snart must have heard something in the sound because he looked up at Barry, something concerned in his expression.

                Barry went to take another sip of coffee.  “Jack Frost!” the barista called.  Barry nearly spat hot liquid all over the folder.

                Snart was smirking at him as he rose to claim his coffee. Barry found himself smiling for some reason as Snart took the cup, turned to salute Barry with it before sauntering out without another word. Barry watched him go, finding himself still smiling well after he was gone.

 

                “It’s going to be nice to have an evening out,” Caitlin said, grabbing Cisco’s arm, as they walked along the street. She was in a simple little black dress with heels ever higher than she usually wore at STAR Labs. Her hair had been curled into huge thick waves and she looked beautiful. It was a pity Jay had decided pike out on them tonight. He would have loved the way she looked.

                “So, I know nothing about art,” Cisco said, adjusting the dark jacket he had over a mid-brown button-down shirt he had underneath. “Unless you mean comic book art.”

                “Well you’ll probably love tonight,” Barry replied with a grin. “The city is raising money for the children’s hospital, so they asked a lot of local artists to provide works they can auction off. The theme is current events, specifically The Flash and the metahumans who’ve been attacking the city. I’m expecting a lot of pop art.”

                “Already sounds way cool,” Cisco replied. “So how did we get invites?”

                “CCPD got a whole heap of general invites, a way for the city to say thanks to the police for all the work they do. I managed to get the Captain to give me a few for us, to say thanks for STAR Labs work.”

                “I like Singh more and more,” Cisco said then. “Even if he is a hard-arse.”

                “He’ll probably be here tonight,” Barry said, as they mounted the steps to the gallery. “You can thank him yourself.”

                “Dude!” Cisco replied with a shake of his head like he wasn’t going anywhere near the man unless he had too.

                The event wasn’t black tie but Barry became immediately conscious of the fact that Cisco and more importantly, he himself were way underdressed. There were suits and ties everywhere. Cisco seemed unfazed entering passed the greeter who took the invitations Barry handed over. Barry adjusted the casual jacket he was wearing and let Caitlin take his arm as they moved into the gallery proper. They found Cisco not far away, already grabbing champagne from the passing server.

                “Let the party begin,” Cisco said, handing them the flutes.

                Barry smiled and turned his attention to the artworks on the walls. There were a lot of paintings of the Flash of course. He was overwhelmingly the subject of the works.  They had been submitted in every possible media from oils and acrylics to charcoal sketches.  As much as Barry had expected a lot of pop art images there were a wide variety of styles.  His favourites were by far the impressionistic ones, painted quickly with broad strokes of the brush in heavy thick layers of paint. They looked the way he felt, still images captured of someone who was always in motion. There were a wide variety of metas and non-metas among the subjects but they all seemed to have one thing in common, they were all connected to the Flash in some way.  There were dark and brooding cowled images of the Arrow, a beautifully detailed steampunk style oil of the Clock King, a computer altered image of Kyle Nimbus, with only his face visible through the waves of his mist, there were more than a few of Mark Mardon, the Weather Wizard’s handsome face warped with anger and surrounded by storms and clouds.  And there were inevitably, ones of Zoom, dark and frightening images Barry refused to look at for long.

                “Guys!” a familiar voice called, and Barry turned to find Iris and Eddie appearing out of the crowd.

                “Hey, Iris, Eddie,” he greeted them.  He knew they’d be here of course but he’d been hoping to avoid them in the crowds.  It was only two weeks until the wedding and Barry was hoping for just a little more space before the big day.

                “Have you seen all this yet Barry?” Eddie asked, looking surprised and impressed at the works around him. “The Flash is front and centre tonight.”

                “Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming,” Barry replied.

                Iris leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You should be really proud,” she whispered in his ear. “They all love you.”

                Barry scoffed. “I don’t think it’s quite like that.”

                “Dude,” Cisco said then.  “There is this amazing painting of STAR Labs over there with the particle accelerator explosion going off.  Do we have money in the budget to buy it for the office?”

                “Not if you actually want to get paid next week,” Barry replied.

                Cisco considered. “There is that I suppose.”

                “Yeah,” Barry told him with a sarcastic nod.        

                Iris was looking at her empty champagne flute. “Honey?” she asked Eddie, holding out the glass.

                “Yeah, sure,” he replied with a smile, his heart in his eyes. “Anyone else want something?”

                There was a round of polite ‘no’s’ and Eddie disappeared to find a server.

                “I am so lucky,” Iris said with a smile.

                “You are, he’s a lovely guy,” Caitlin told her, a soft smile of her face for Iris obvious happiness.

                Barry suddenly felt awkward and not knowing what to say. “Ah guys, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom. Be back in a sec.”

                He wandered off into the crowd, hoping to remove himself from Iris’ happiness for a little while longer. It wasn’t that he disliked Eddie, the guy was great. If Iris had to end up with anyone else Eddie was a good choice but Barry was still having difficulty being around with them both so happy all the time. As he maneuvered along the twisting walls of the space he stopped at one work that took his attention. It was a portrait of Snart, a close up of his face. He was turned slightly, looking out of the right side of the painting, the tell-tale googles around his neck and the fluffy edge of his parka hood resting back against his shoulders.  Barry found himself fascinated by it, though he wasn’t sure why.

                “I don’t think the artist has captured him quite right, do you?”  a female voice asked from beside him.

                Barry startled and turned. She was in her early forties, with blonde hair piled high on her head in complicated curls. Her makeup was fashionably applied and her dress was as short as a dress could be and not be called a shirt. She was standing far too close and twirling her champagne flute suggestively in blood-red nailed fingertips. From the way she was looking him up and down he wondered if she’d even looked at the painting.

                “Uh, um, what makes you say that?”  he asked, taking a small step back and turning his attention to the painting again.

                She moved behind him, her breath in his ear. “It’s in the set of the mouth, the look in the eyes. It’s not right.”

                Barry looked again. He realised she was correct. Snart’s eyes were just a little too wide, a little too soft. The smile on his face wasn’t the hard smirk of a man who knew something you didn’t, it was a genuine smile of contentment. Then Barry knew why he found the image so compelling.

                She’d moved around in front of him again, coming between him and the painting, holding out her hand. “Cassandra Laine.  Everyone calls me Cassie.”

                “Uh, Barry,” he replied, taking the hand, which she continued to hold for longer than needed, stroking a thumb across the back of his hand.

                She finally released him and turned back to the painting, although she was still standing right in his space. Barry glanced around, not finding anyone he knew close by. He could feel his pulse starting to rise with the awkwardness of the situation.

                He took a step closer to the canvas, pointing towards it vaguely. “That’s because it’s not Captain Cold, it’s Leonard Snart,” he replied, smiling a little and she gave him a questioning gaze. It wasn’t a good look on her, it showed the wrinkles across her forehead, betraying the age she was trying to deny.

                “Is there a difference?” someone drawled from behind him.

                Barry only just managed to not jump.  What the hell was the man doing here? He turned slowly. From the corner of his eye he could see Cassie turn a discontented gaze towards the new voice.

                Snart was standing directly behind them, gazing at the image with a slightly confused expression. He was dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt underneath and a dark blue tie. He looked completely different to any other time Barry had seen him.

                “Of course, there’s a difference,” Barry replied, although he turned his attention to Cassie. “Captain Cold is a persona he puts on when he fights the Flash. Something to make the thief look tough.”

                Cassie smiled. “And Leonard Snart?”

                “He’s still a thief, but he cares about those close to him.” Barry turned back to the painting. “That’s why this is of Snart. This is how he looks at friends and family.”

                “You seem perceptive Barry,” Cassie said, her eyes suddenly glowing with something that made Barry swallow hard.

                “Uh, no, it’s just – I, ah – work for the CCPD, I’ve seen him a few times in person is all.”

                Her smile widened. “A young policeman, how lovely. You must have a unique perspective on the works tonight then. I’d love to hear more.”

                Barry smiled an uncomfortable smile but glanced over at Snart who was watching the exchange with an amused expression, his trademark smirk gracing his lips.

                “Oh, I’m sure Barry would love to spend some time with you,” Snart said then.  “But I’m afraid I have to whisk him away.”

                Cassie gave him a dark look but then seemed to take notice of him for the first time. Her gaze flickered from the painting to Snart and back. As realisation dawned her eyes dropped to his hip as if expecting him to have the Cold Gun on him.

                Barry had to suppress a smile as the confident stance disappeared and the woman seemed to shrink in on herself a little. “It was nice to meet you, Barry,” she said, and vanished into the crowd without waiting for him to respond.

                Snart lifted his drink to his lips, finishing his champagne. “Lovely woman.”

                Barry shuddered. “That’s debatable.”

                Snart nodded at the painting. “You mean what you said?”

                Barry shrugged. “You know what a terrible liar I am.”

                “True,” Snart conceded with a small smile.

                “What are you doing here?”

                “Same as everyone else, looking for art.”

                “You do know there are at least twenty cops here tonight,” Barry informed him.

                “Well then, I guess I’ll need someone to protect me,” he replied with another smirk eyeing Barry closely.

                “You don’t think that’s gonna look a little suspicious to the detectives and the Captain? You and me wandering around together.”

                “Barry, I just saved you from cougar of the year, you can at least buy me a drink.” Snart managed to pout at him.

                Barry rolled his eyes and gestured for the thief to follow him. Thankfully the lighting in the bar area was more intimate so there was less chance of anyone recognising Snart there.

                “You’re not here to steal anything, are you?”  Barry asked as their drinks were handed over.

                “I’m here to pay for art at the auction like anyone else,” Snart replied. “If I find something I like,” he added.

                Barry didn’t want to ask where the money to pay for the art came from. He watched the people coming passed, making sure no one was taking too much notice of them.

                “You look any more nervous being with me it’ll start to hurt my feelings,” Snart said, looking genuinely distressed.

                Barry gave him an apologetic glance over his beer. “Sorry. I know you’re not wanted anymore, but everyone knows you were a bad guy. Hell, did you see how many of the works you’re in? You’re villain of the evening.”

                “It’s nice to noticed,” Snart told him, looking pleased at the attention.

                Barry rolled his eyes. “Noticed? You’re an action figure for god’s sake. Everyone here knows who you are. Just keep your head down, please. I wouldn’t put it passed a couple of the detectives to take you in just to piss you off. Do you really want to spend the evening in lock up just to be released tomorrow morning?”

                Snart gave him another smirk and nodded. “I understand. I’ll play it low key.”

                “Thank you.” Barry let out a relieved sigh.

                “Speaking of action figures,” Snart said then. “How much do you make off the action figure deal?”

                Barry shrugged. “Fifty percent of the profits go to a couple of children’s homes here in Central.”

                “What about the other fifty?”

                “Company takes it, I guess.”

                “You guess?”  Snart sounded outraged but kept his voice low.

                “I’ve been a bit busy,” Barry replied.

                “What about all the other merchandise that’s out there?”

                “I really haven’t been thinking about that,” Barry told him sucking at his beer.

                Snart looked scandalised. “Well you should be! There are people out there making money off the Flash image and you’re not getting anything? I would have thought for a poorly paid CSI you’d have thought better about it.”

                “I’m not going to try and make money off being the Flash,” Barry hissed, horrified by the idea.

                “Not saying that,” Snart told him calmly. “I’m saying that you don’t want to let just anyone have access to your image or that lightning symbol. God knows what they’d use it for. You need a PR person to look after it for you.”

                “People are not going to take advantage of the Flash.”

                “People -.” Snart made air quotes with his fingers. “Take advantage of everyone, the Flash included. How much money do you think Jitters makes selling those Flash coffees?”

                “Not much I don’t think, it’s more the gimmick.”

                “Precisely, gets people through the door,” Snart told him. “Makes them more money by selling other stuff. You think the newspaper stand selling Flash socks makes a huge amount of money from that? No, they make more from the follow on sales.”

                “What are you trying to say, Snart?”

                “I’m trying to say that those children’s charities could get a whole lot more if you actually put some effort into managing the ‘brand’ that’s the Flash.”

                “Okay, ‘Flash’ is not a brand,” Barry told him.

                “It should be,” Snart replied his tone serious. “Do you really want people selling Flash condoms or porn?”

                “No one is going to make Flash porn.”

                The expression Snart favoured him with said _Are you really that innocent and naïve?_

                “Are they?”

                Snart rolled his eyes. “Oui! You need to put someone on this as soon as possible.”

                Barry thought about it for a long moment, oh my god! Then strangely he smiled, a repressed chuckle shaking his shoulder.

                “What?” Snart demanded, looking like Barry still wasn’t taking him seriously.

                “I get what you’re saying now. I really do.  But Flash condoms – it’d be a really bad marketing idea.”

                Suddenly they were both giggling, Snart wiping his mouth as he nearly spat his drink out in amusement. There was a rare openness about Snart in that moment, a soft realness around his mouth and eyes that Barry had never seen before. It was like seeing the real Leonard for the first time. God where had that suddenly come from?

                His phone dinged and he looked at the text with the photo attached.

                _Look who I found_

                “So, you didn’t come alone this evening,” Barry stated, turning the phone to show Cisco and Lisa Snart together with Caitlin. Cisco was looking more than happy, Caitlin a little uncomfortable.

                Snart shrugged. “Mick’s here too somewhere.”

                “Mick?  But – he’s still got outstanding warrants.  Oh my god, what were you thinking?”

                “He was bored, looked like he was going to start burning things, so I thought he could use a night out.”

                Barry groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Rory was going to be seen, someone was going to try and arrest him and then the whole gallery was going to burn down.  This evening was going to be a disaster.

                Snart downed the last of his drink. “Come on, there’s a lot more to see.”

                “What?”

                “Well you can’t let me out of your sight now,” Snart told him. He leaned in and whispered; “Better keep an eye on me in case the Flash needs to make an appearance.”

                Barry shot a quick text to Cisco and Caitlin telling them Rory was in the building and to keep an eye out but not do anything unless necessary.

                Barry trailed in Snart’s wake, still feeling this was a really bad idea. They wandered the different sections of the gallery, though Barry had now lost all enthusiasm for the art. He was too on edge, breathing deep expecting to smell smoke at any moment. Snart seemed at complete ease, moving with catlike grace between the patrons milling about while Barry mumbled apologies as he bumped into people as he passed.

                Snart paused at a doorway frowning at the contents beyond.  There were very few people in there. Barry looked over his shoulder. “It’s the kids section.”

                “Kids?” Snart was frowning.

                “Since the charity is the children’s hospital they had kids from the local schools do a whole heap of pictures for the theme.  They aren’t for sale but it’s fun for them to have them displayed.”

                Snart nodded but turned to leave.

                “Oh, come on, Snart,” Barry told him with a grin. “Don’t you want to see what the kids think of you?”

                Snart rolled his eyes but followed Barry through the door into the smaller space. Barry was instantly in love. There were dozens of pictures from kids aged from kindergarten all the way up to high school and placed in their various age groups and by school.

                “You can’t tell me that’s not cute!” Barry told him, pointing at one by a seven-year-old. It was a Flash lightning bolt and big snowflake, they were smiling at each other and holding hands.

                Snart smiled and moved down the wall. “Think I prefer this one,” he commented, gesturing to a picture of the Captain Cold with his hands around Flash’s throat.

                “Very funny,” Barry told him with a grin.

                Despite his initial reluctance, Barry could see Snart warming to these less than professional artworks. They spent the next ten minutes searching through the pieces, laughing at the cool imagination of the kids in Central City.  As they got to the far end of the room the images got clearer and were better rendered as the age of the kids got to high school.  A few of the better ones had even been framed and it was one of these that took Barry’s attention.

                It was a lightning bolt but not the stylised version of his suit.  It was a natural forked bolt, running jagged down the middle of the canvas. It looked like some form of mixed media, a combination of acrylics, watercolours and other media Barry couldn’t identify. The lightning glowed white, with red, fading to orange and yellow around it.  But the outside edges of the canvas were the deepest midnight blue, fading into white as the colours mingled in the middle.  Over all of it were a myriad of small white snowflakes that covered the blue in all its shades. As the snowflakes got closer to the lightning they started to melt, falling apart against the orange and red heat. It was a simple image but was rendered so beautifully Barry could tell the young fifteen-year-old who painted it had a future in art.

                “Wow,” he breathed.

                Snart gave an approving nod.  “Not bad.”

                “Better than that,” Barry murmured. He could see Snart looking at him from the corner of his eye, something speculative in his expression.

                “Come on,” the thief said then. “We only have the last section to go and the auction is due to begin in half an hour.”

                The final section was for larger works, canvases that were larger than life size.  Barry stopped speechless at the two images that took up the entrance to the section.  One was of Captain Cold, skinny jeans and parka, hand resting on the Cold Gun that was holstered at his hip.  Squatting in front of him was Heat Wave, his dirty and scuffed fireman’s uniform in place, his hands holding the Heat Gun.  They were painted on a plain white background and they were both staring out of the painting, their expressions hard and questioning as if asking who wanted to take them on. It was rendered close to photographic quality but retained enough of the paint strokes to prove instantly it was a painting.

                On the other side of the door was a piece the same size and shape and clearly by the same artist by the near photo quality style. Again, there was Snart, the Cold Gun this time drawn and lifted, resting back on his shoulder. But his companion was different.  Again, this was painted on a white background, but that background was cut across by soft streaks of red and orange lightning, the trail Barry always left behind him. The Flash was standing next to Captain Cold, his left shoulder just in front of him. They were both smiling slightly, there was no tension only an easy companionship between them.

                “Well, well,” Snart murmured from beside him, his gaze was on both paintings as well.

               “Now that one I like,” came a gruff voice behind them and Barry quailed, trying hard to keep from looking at the arsonist.  Rory had to recognise Barry from the night Snart had taken him home to heal. He’d have to have questions about Barry if he saw him again. The criminal was looking at the picture of Cold and Heatwave with happy appreciation. He was dressed in a dark suit similar to Snart and looked strangely respectable and even a little handsome.

                Snart was smiling. “Think I’ve found my piece for the evening.”

                Barry was about to ask where Snart would hang a piece that stood nearly seven feet tall, when Rory looked over at him seeming to notice him for the first time.

                His look of surprise vanished almost as soon as it appeared. He nodded. “Hey kid.”

                “Uh, yeah, hey…Mick,” he replied, not knowing how to talk to the arsonist. He realised he’d never had a conversation with Mick. Not that he’d ever had a reason to.

                Just then his phone began to vibrate. He looked at the ID and moved away from Snart and Rory, keeping his voice low. “Yeah, Cisco?”

                “Dude, my metahuman alert app just went off big time,” Cisco sounded agitated.

                “Where?”  Barry asked, finding it a good excuse to get away from the two criminals.

                “It’s right outside the gallery,” Cisco said, it sounded like he was walking quickly.

                “What!? Where are you?”

                “Ah, I’m at the front doors with Lisa and Caitlin,” there was a pause and Barry could hear the shatter of breaking glass over the phone. “You’re gonna need the suit.” There was a groan from Cisco and then nothing more.

                “What is it?” Snart asked. He was watching Barry with concern.

                “Lisa’s at the front doors with Cisco and Caitlin – they’re in trouble.”

                “Mick,” Snart ordered and they both disappeared into the crowd as the first screams could be heard.

                Barry was gone in a moment, a quick change back at the car and he was back at the front door of the gallery as the Flash.

                The scene outside was already pandemonium. There were eight armed men with lightweight machine guns were trying to storm the entrance, while some of the off-duty police officers, who had clearly still carried their sidearms had them stalled as they fired from behind cover just inside the shattered doors. The onslaught of the machine guns was quickly overwhelming them however and he could already see a couple of the officers down, wounded.  Barry wasted no time, whipping between the attackers, ripping weapons from hands and removing clips from guns. It was over in a few moments and Barry stopped in front of the doors, where a terrified looking Cisco and Caitlin were climbing out from behind a bench seat. Cisco reached out to help Lisa to her feet and the woman took his hand gratefully, just as Snart and Rory appeared out of the crowd. Lisa gave her brother a quick hug but they said nothing to each other.

                Barry watched as the crowd quickly calmed and the police began to take charge of the situation. He was at a loss though as to what was going on. The men with guns had been overpowered with ease.

                “Why was this a metahuman alert?” he asked Cisco, confused.

                “That would be because of me!” came a call from across the courtyard.

                He turned just in time to dodge a piece of metal that came flying out of the dark. People were screaming and scattering again. The man standing in the centre of the courtyard was dressed in a skin-tight suit of dark blue with slashes of acid yellow cutting diagonally across the broad muscled chest and wide shoulders. He had long white blonde hair that flowed free down his back but was currently held back from his face by a pair of large blue-rimmed goggles.

                “My friends there were just to get your attention,” the man continued, he had a voice that sounded too high pitched for the bulk of his body. “Now Flash, if you don’t want these good people hurt, I suggest you lie down and die for me.  Zoom would be ever so grateful.”

                Barry moved down the steps to the courtyard at normal speed. Behind him he could hear Captain Singh’s voice, directing officers to get the people well back inside the building.

                “And exactly how do you plan to do that?”  Barry asked.

                The man lifted his hands wide, palms up and several pieces of metal and shards of glass lifted off the ground, floating steadily in front of him. Then the man shifted his hands towards Barry and the items shot forward at high speed. Barry went into hyper-speed mode, letting the world around him slow down, watching as the items came at him in slow motion so he could catch them one at a time, dropping them to the ground before they could strike anyone behind him.

                 As he let the world flow back to normal speed gunshots rang out, the officers firing at the new threat. Barry watched amazed as the bullets stopped in mid-air, the man looking at them with curiosity before he clenched his fingers and the bullets dropped harmlessly.

                 “Barry,” it was Harry in his ear.  The man had been at STAR Labs and must have heard the alerts on the Cortex computers. “He’s a metahuman from my Earth.”

                 “Yeah, kinda worked that out thanks,” Barry retorted, grabbing more missiles thrown towards the gallery.

                 “He calls himself Slash,” Harry continued. “He has the power of telekinesis.”

                 “Okay, got that too,” Barry panted, running around the other side of ‘Slash’ so he was no longer facing the gallery. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

                 Barry swerved in towards Slash, trying to get close enough to knock him out but he was greeted by a rain of fine pieces of glass from the broken front doors. Barry turned at the last second, avoiding the mass of the projectiles but several pieces still hit his shoulder and pierced the suit. Pain shot through his muscles and he ground to a halt, groaning in pain.

                 “Barry, he only has the ability to hold up so much at one time,” Harry informed him, the words short and clipped.  “The more you make him carry the less he’ll be able to focus on anything else.”

                 “Tell Cisco,” Barry panted, and dodged a larger piece of glass that came flying out of the dark. “I’ll keep him busy.”

 

                 Len watched from the shattered front doors of the gallery, standing behind the makeshift wall of garbage bins, overturned chairs and other stuff the police had used to create a barricade to hide behind at the start of the attack. Snow and Ramon stood close by with Lisa and Mick. Singh had called a halt to firing for the moment, taking the time to assess the situation.  Barry was ducking and weaving around the courtyard out front looking for a way in against the attacker but the guy had too much ammunition with the broken glass and other pieces of debris from the opening attack, which Len surmised was probably part of the reason for it. He watched as Barry took a hit to the shoulder, pausing briefly in pain before blurring off again. The courtyard was a mass of red lightning and flying objects, the guy in blue standing in the centre, arms outstretched, as he turned in a circle to keep Barry in his sights.

                 “Okay, okay, Harry I get it,” Ramon was suddenly shouting into his phone over the noise. “I’ll think of something. Captain!” he called to the police officer, who turned to him in irritation but came over anyway.

                  “What is it?”  Snow was asking him as he hung up the phone and turned to Singh.

                  “Okay, the more he has to hold up, the more he has to concentrate,” Ramon told them. “The telekinesis is in a field around him. The more the field is full the harder it is for him keep track of it all.”

                   “So, we just give him enough to have to block coming in and he won’t be able to send anything back at Ba– the Flash,” she replied, quickly.

                    “Looks like Flash has the same idea,” Len told them, his eyes on the scene outside. From the corner of his eye he could see the surprise on Singh’s face that he was there, but the man said nothing for the moment.

                     The courtyard was a series of paved areas that had been split up by areas of white gravel.  The Flash was currently picking up handfuls of the stuff at superspeed and lobbing them towards the attacker. Unfortunately for Barry the guy was simply stopping the stuff as it came in and then letting it drop to the ground before it could hit him. But as Len watched Barry seemed to be making headway, more and more pieces of stone hitting the blue suit, even if they weren’t doing any damage.

                     “We need to find a way to distract him,” Caitlin said, looking around as if inspiration would strike.

                     “Mick, Lisa,” Len said then, not taking his eyes off the fight outside.  “The nearest bar now.  Bring back every bottle you can find that’s flammable.”

                     “Got it,” Mick said, a grin stretching across his face. He and Lisa disappeared back into the gallery, and the nearest drink station. “Snow, your help!” Mick growled over his shoulder.

                     Snow looked shocked but followed the two slowly, her expression confused.

                     “What are you planning, Snart?” Singh demanded.

                     “A distraction, hopefully one this meta won’t be able to fight against,” he replied. “Ramon, you got contact with the Flash?”

                     “Not directly,” the kid replied cautiously, casting a sideways glance at Singh.

                     “Then we’ll have to time it ourselves. Captain Singh, do your men have enough ammunition left to shoot a few bottles?”

                     Singh’s eyes narrowed but then a slight smile twitched at his lips. “Of course.”

                     From the corner of his eye Len saw a slim high heeled body slinking through the shadows of the gallery until it stepped out into the light beside them revealing a concerned but energised Iris West.

                     “What’s happening?” she demanded of Cisco, who jumped at her sudden appearance.

                     “Not the time for sneaking up,” the engineer cried.

                     Detective Thawne approached then. “Captain the men are asking what the plan is. It’s getting crazy out there and the squads are about two minutes out.”

                     “Tell them to hold fire until we’re ready,” Singh said.  “We need to give this guy something other than the Flash to think about.”

                     “Iris what are you doing here!?” Thawne demanded then. “I told you to stay back!”

                     She pouted and gave him a hurt look.  “Honey! Reporter!”

                     Thawne gave her an exasperated glare that said she was going to be in trouble later but he let it pass for now. “What’s the plan?” he asked Singh again.

                     At that moment Mick, Lisa and Snow returned, arms loaded with bottles of booze.  Len took three and pushed them into Thawne’s hands, then took the rest from Snow so she had no reason to go with them. Barry would definitely be angry if Len put any of his little team in danger. He thought for a moment that probably included Thawne but he let that go, the guy’s job was to put himself on the line like this.

                     Singh hefted a bottle in each hand, turning towards the open doors. Len, Mick and Lisa took up position on either side of him along with Thawne.  “Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath. “We wait until the Flash makes his next salvo of stones while the meta’s back is turned and then we throw these.  If he manages to catch them then all the better.”

                     As they started forward Len saw Ramon take out his phone again, probably relaying the plan to whoever was talking to the Flash.

                     “So, what the hell are you doing here Snart?” Singh asked quiet but harsh as they descended the steps of the gallery.

                     “The plan was to see myself immortalised on canvas, maybe buy some art,” Len replied with a smile.

                     “And you’re helping, why?”

                     “You know I hate it when my plans get disrupted,” he told him with a shrug.

                     Singh huffed. “Right,” he muttered.

                     They five of them halted just at the bottom of the steps. Barry must have got the message because he was dashing back and forth on the far side of the courtyard keeping the meta’s attention away from the gallery. He let fly another volley of stones and they threw the bottles.  The stones hit the field. The bottles hit the field. The meta dropped the stones. Barry threw more stones.  Thawne dropped a prepared arm and the men in the gallery let fly with more bullets, these aimed at the bottles. Not all of them made it but enough to make sure the bottles broke. Len watched fascinated as the glass shattered around the liquid inside, the alcohol hanging suspended in the air among the pieces.

                     “Mick!” Len shouted and the arsonist took his lighter from his jacket, quickly flicking it alight.

                     Barry lobbed a huge flurry of stones as Mick launched the lighter towards the floating booze.  There was a bright flash of light and bright line of fire that spread forward into the field.  With a cry of surprise, the meta turned behind him as the light of fire spread around him and as he did so his concentration faltered. Another handful of rocks from Barry and the guy was writhing in pain, the high-speed stones hitting him in several sensitive places. The pieces of rock and glass he’d been holding ready to strike Barry dropped useless to the ground and then Barry was on him.  The blur of movement was beyond Len’s ability to keep up with but it wasn’t long before Barry had stopped, the meta on the ground unconscious.

                     Barry stopped a moment, looking surprised to see Len standing there but a huge bright smile spread across his face that caused Len’s chest to tighten in a pleasant sort of way. Then police were swarming down the steps and Barry was speeding away from the area and out of sight. Len was disappointed the kid hadn’t stayed though it would be difficult for him with all that glass in his shoulder.

                Len sighed. “Well that puts a damper on the evening.”

                “Oh, I don’t know,” Lisa said from beside him. “This is the most fun I’ve had at an art gallery.”

                Len grinned. “Definitely the most exciting.”

                “You people should get out of here,” Singh said then, his eyes on the arriving squad cars.

                “No ‘thank you’, Captain?”  Len asked with a knowing smirk.

                “Your ‘thank you’ is me not arresting Rory for his outstanding warrants,” Singh replied briefly. “Now go.” He turned away going to greet the men who had just arrived and start taking charge of the situation.

                Len smiled as he turned away. Lisa was already up the steps to farewell Cisco with a brief but flirtatious kiss on the cheek.

                “Cops owe me a new lighter,” Mick groused as he fell into step with Len.

                “I’ll make sure to let them know.” Len replied as the strolled slowly away from the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Eddie's Bachelor Party turns out to have some unexpected outcomes for Barry and Len


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Eddie Thawne's Bachelor Party.   
> Barry becomes terrified the old tradition of the Best Man sleeping with the Maid of Honor might just be expected!

                Barry stirred on the gurney, groaning as he decided not to open his eyes yet. He’d been floating peacefully on the edge of sleep for a long time and he really didn’t want to wake up fully yet.

                “Oh good, you’re awake,” Caitlin’s voice sounded somewhere nearby.

                Barry forced his eyes open with reluctance, wishing she wasn’t always so worried about him. She was coming over to the bed, gloves already on her hands as she tested the area on his shoulder where she’d removed the dozen or more pieces of glass the night before. It had taken longer and hurt more than it should, since his body had already healed around the pieces, making them difficult to remove.

                “Is there any tenderness at all?” she asked, probing the area with gentle fingers.

                “No,” he muttered, his voice still rough with sleep. “It’s all fine.”

                She nodded and gave him a bright smile that shouldn’t be allowed this early in the morning. He looked at his watch. It was ten o’clock. Okay, not so early.  The fight last night must have taken more out of him than he thought if he’d slept this late. Good thing his shift didn’t start until afternoon this week.

                He sat up and she handed him a STAR Labs sweat shirt to put over his naked chest.  Once he had that on she handed him one of Cisco’s energy bars, which he ate slowly, thinking back over what happened last night. He wished Cisco could find a way to make them taste better. The first ones had been horrible but the newest recipe were just bland.

                “Did CCPD get Slash to the meta human wing at Iron Heights alright?” he asked, between bites.

                She nodded. “He’s locked up and won’t be throwing anymore glass around anytime soon.”

                “Was anyone hurt?”

                “There were a few officers with gunshot wounds and a few more with glass injuries but none of the public was hurt and none of the wounds were life threatening.”

                Barry sighed, running a hand over his face. “It could have been a lot worse.”

                “Well the Flash had everything under control,” she said with a grin. “Even if Captain Cold and Heat Wave had to lend a hand.”

                “Was Snart hurt?”

                She smiled slyly. “Are you worrying over your villains now?”

                Barry looked down, running a hand over the back of his neck. “He put himself in the line of fire. I didn’t expect that.”

                “Well, the last I saw he and Rory were strolling away from the scene without a scratch,” she told him. “Although Heat Wave was complaining he wants a new lighter.”

                Barry huffed in amusement, of course that would be the most important thing to the arsonist. He got up and wandered into the Cortex proper, taking a chair in front of the control station, still slowly munching on the energy bar. He thought back to how the evening had been going before the attack. He shook his head in disbelief at the realisation he’d been having a good time with Snart. It’d been nice to have a quiet drink and talk about things that weren’t Iris’ wedding or Wally or Zoom. Even the Flash related stuff had been light-hearted. He found himself wishing he had more times like that these days, even as he began to search up Public Relations firms in Central City.

                Cisco wandered into the Cortex, sucking on a huge soda. “Hey, he’s awake!”

                “Hey Cisco,” Barry greeted him. “Did Lisa get away alright last night?”

                “Who knows man,” the young engineer grumped. “Woman never tells me anything.”

                Barry swivelled the chair towards him, concerned. “Things going wrong with you two?”

                Cisco frowned. “More like going nowhere.” He slumped into his chair and turned towards Barry. “She keeps calling, wanting to go out, a lot of the time at the last minute, ya know. Like I’m just available for her anytime.”

                Barry grimaced. “Which you kinda are, man.”

                Cisco’s eyes narrowed. “Do I make fun of your lack of love life?” he demanded.

                Barry held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

                “Worse thing is, we go out, we have a good time, often a great time and then she like just leaves,” Cisco complained.

                “She doesn’t stay all night?” Barry asked, realising that was a bit forward even as it came out of his mouth.

                “No, I mean there’s never even some of the night,” Cisco let out then. “We get to the end of the evening and she’ll give me a goodnight kiss and then ride off into the darkness on that damn sexy gold motorcycle.”

                “Ouch,” Barry said, feeling for him.

                “And it’s not for lack of trying. I tell you dude, I just don’t know what she wants.”

                Caitlin came out of the med suite. “Perhaps all she wants is a friend, Cisco.”

                “Friends don’t stick their tongues down your throat.”

                “That’s true,” Barry said, looking at Caitlin.

                Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Then perhaps she just wants to take it slow. You know she did have a pretty rough upbringing. Maybe she just wants to be sure you’re the right one before she lets you in that close – and I can’t believe I’m defending Lisa Snart. How did we get to this?” She suddenly looked confused.

                “We got a bomb out of her neck, learned what a twisted bastard her father was, and she became more than just a criminal to us,” Barry replied matter-of-factly.

                Caitlin thought about that and then nodded at the truth of it.

                He turned back to Cisco. “Dude, just ask her.”

                “What, so she can make me run after her even more? I don’t think so.”

                “Why don’t you ask her away for a weekend,” Caitlin suggested then. “Somewhere she won’t necessarily be able to run away from. At least you’ll be able to pin her down to talk, if nothing else.”

                Cisco frowned and then smiled. “That’s not a terrible idea. In fact, that’s a great idea. I know exactly what to do.”  He was reaching for his phone, heading out of the Cortex to give himself some privacy and Barry turned to smile with Caitlin.

                “What are you looking at?” she asked.

                “Oh, um, just being at the gallery last night, seeing them raising money for charity with the Flash as the theme, just made me think, I could be raising a lot more money if I actually licensed the Flash name and image.  I mean I currently don’t get anything from all the Flash t-shirts and stuff that are out there. Those kid’s homes could be getting way more.”

                Caitlin considered that. “You’re right. But how would you deal with that on a day to day basis? I mean finding someone to take on the brand wouldn’t be difficult but how would they contact you when they needed too? The Flash would need some sort of intermediary, at least to start with.” She grinned. “Unless you wanted to just speed into someone’s office in the suit and introduce yourself?”

                Barry laughed. “Yeah, that might be a bit much. Can’t really see myself sitting in a corporate meeting room in the suit, discussing percentages and contracts.”  He frowned. “Who could I get to do that? I mean, it can’t be anyone from here and it can’t be Joe or Iris.”

                “It would have to be someone you know you can trust but is far enough removed it can’t be traced back to you.”

                Barry nodded, thinking that through. He grinned, briefly considering asking Snart to do it. He knew the man would be able to drive a hard bargain when it came to getting the best deal but he discounted the idea. Having Captain Cold looking after the Flash’s brand would not be a good idea.

                Cisco returned to the Cortex looking happy and energised. “That’s it! It’s done! Lisa Snart is now my date for Iris’ wedding!”

                Barry gave him a surprised nod. “Wow. That’s great. And it’s out of town too.”

                “Which means we need to at least spend one night at a hotel afterwards,” Cisco told him. “Which I should probably update my booking for, now I’ll need a bigger room.” He was back on his phone again.

                Barry and Caitlin grinned at each other. “So, are you going to ask Jay?”  he enquired of her quietly.

                “Already have,” she told him with a bright smile. “He’s my plus one.”

                “I’m happy for you guys,” Barry told her, genuinely glad she’d found someone again. Jay was a great guy, everything she deserved.

                For once Barry was happy he didn’t have to try and find a date. As part of the bridal party he only had to stand next to Eddie’s younger brother Reginald, who was his best man. Barry had yet to meet him but it seemed unlikely there would be a problem with having to stand next to a man in the photos as opposed to a woman.

 

                Eddie’s Buck’s night was a much more high-brow affair than Barry would have considered for a men’s night out. He supposed it was because it was being organised by Reginald Thawne, his younger brother, and the Thawne family was not one to be seen frequenting seedy bars or strip clubs.

                Barry sped to a stop just a block from the casino and readjusted his clothes. He was naturally, running late, having had to finish several reports before leaving work to rush home and change. He pulled down the red vest he was wearing over a white shirt and black pants, straightening the black jacket of his suit. He checked to make sure his shoes weren’t scuffed, or smoking for that matter. When he was satisfied with the way he looked, he made his way down the street and into the casino foyer.

                Central City only had four casinos and as a CSI Barry was well aware that three of them were run by the mob. This one, The Regal Crown was owned by some Australian media magnate who’d decided to go into casinos as well. It was only three years old, so the place still had the fashionable balance of good taste and gawdy show that a casino required.

                When he enquired at the concierge about the location of the Thawne party he was personally escorted there by a tall model in a short black dress and massive high heels who made polite and witty conversation with him as she took him passed the slot machines and down a corridor that lead to several event rooms.

                She opened the door for him with a winning smile. “Here you are sir, have a pleasant evening.”

                He nodded and thanked her, trying hard not to stare at her impossibly long legs as she turned to go. Inside the room was an informal affair with several tables and lots of chairs scattered around. Barry could see a lot of cops mingling around the room, as well as a lot of men he didn’t recognise, who must have been members of Eddie’s family.

                “Barry!” It was Joe, materialising out of the crowd, a beer already in hand for him.

                Barry smiled and let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been looking forward to trying to find people he knew here, there had to be at least fifty men in the room.

                “Late as usual,” Joe commented passing over the drink.

                “Yeah well, that’s me. Where’s Eddie?”  he asked.

                “He’s here somewhere, with his beautiful kid brother.”

                “Another pretty boy?”  Barry asked, with a grin.

                “Girls think Eddie is good looking, you should see this kid,” Joe told him. “Come on, let’s see where they are.”

                They found them near the centre of the room, surrounded by other well-wishers and friends.

                “Barry!” Eddie greeted him with a huge hug. “Glad to see you finally here.”

                “Ah, you know, traffic,” Barry gave the lame excuse but Eddie didn’t seem to hear it, already turning to the young man next to him.

                “This is my brother Reggie,” Eddie introduced him.

                He was a few years younger than Barry. He had the same clear blue eyes as Eddie but his blonde hair was a few shades darker, swept back from an oval face with a broad pleased smile. About the same height as his brother he was leaner but still possessed the same broad shoulders. The hand that shook Barry’s was full of strength. He was a younger smaller version of Eddie, his features more finely chiselled, giving him an elfin-like look. Joe was right, he was even more handsome than Eddie.

                “Nice to meet you,” he said to Barry as their hands parted.

                “You too,” Barry responded and was rewarded by the disconcerting response of Reggie looking him up and down in a way that made Barry swallow uncomfortably.

                “Hey,” Eddie said, “Here comes the food.”

                A group of servers arrived, the young ladies in heels and short skirts, each one with breasts larger than the previous. This then had to be what passed for the gratuitous sexism of the evening. They carried trays around the crowd, passing out finger food to the ravenous off duty cops and Barry of course was always hungry.

                “Wow, you can really put it away,” Reggie commented from beside him when Barry took three pastries from the tray at once.

                Barry stopped, knowing he was probably looking like an uncouth slob. “Ah, it’s just I haven’t eaten since breakfast. It’s been a busy day,” he lied quickly. “Sorry.”

                Reggie took a step towards him, pushing just a little too far in Barry’s personal space for comfort. “That’s alright, I like a man with a big appetite.” He was looking Barry up and down again and there was something predatory in his gaze that seemed out of place in one so young.

                Barry smiled in what he hoped wasn’t too uncomfortable a look and gazed around for help. Unfortunately, Joe and Eddie were on the other side of the room. He shoved another pastry in his mouth so he didn’t have to say anything, more than a little freaked when the best man continued to watch his lips with an unblinking gaze.

                And so, the evening continued.  Barry did his best to be anywhere but near Reggie but the guy just kept turning up. Barry didn’t know whether to be flattered or disgusted, since Reggie seemed to be hedging his bets, all at once flirting outrageously with the servers and then turning back to Barry with some veiled innuendo. As good looking as the guy was, he wasn’t interested in the slightest but didn’t think that rejecting the advances of Eddie’s brother outright would help when they had to stand together at the wedding.

                After the food, the entertainment arrived. There were scantly clad dancers, who burst out from behind a sign of Eddie’s name, and who danced around him and with him to make the groom red with embarrassment and delight. They then proceeded to dance with other members of the party, much to the happiness of the now slightly inebriated officers. Barry even managed to lose Reggie in the swirling twist of bodies for about half an hour as one of the dancers took him in hand and taught him some steps, much to Reggie’s delight and Barry’s relief.

                Barry found himself standing at the edge of the area that had become a makeshift dancefloor for the party, watching Joe, Mullins and Carmichael taking part in an impromptu chorus line with a couple of the dancers on either end.

                “Didn’t know Mullins could keep a beat like that,” someone commented from beside him.

                He turned to find Rob Singh standing beside him. He was on the verge of saying ‘hi’ when he remembered he’d erased the timeline where they’d met and he was essentially standing with a stranger right now.

                “Uh, hi, I’m Barry Allen,” He introduced himself, holding out his hand.

                Rob smiled and shook his hand. “Rob Singh. So, you’re the brilliant young CSI?”

                Barry’s brain stuttered to a halt. “Pardon? Where have you heard that?”

                “From David,” he answered, and then smiled again at Barry’s shocked expression. “Don’t be fooled. David is all bark. He really thinks highly of you. But don’t tell him I told you that.”

                Barry grinned. “I will keep that to myself.”

                They watched the dancing for a few minutes.

                “So, what do you do for a living?” Barry asked, finding the silence awkward. “The Captain has never mentioned it, at least not in front of me.”

                “Oh, I’m a humble lawyer, working with a small firm. I handle mostly building contracts and business partnership agreements, wills, the very boring side of the law.”

                Barry stood a little straighter, an idea suddenly coming to mind. “So, you handle contracts and agreements?” This could be the answer to his Flash licensing issue.

                “Yes,” he replied. “It’s a lot of negotiation, but that’s the part I enjoy, trying to get the best deal for everyone involved.” Although his words seemed directed to Barry his eyes were on the dancers, his feet tapping to the music.

                Barry was about to suggest he join the cops on the floor when Captain Singh appeared beside them with drinks, handing Rob a beer. The man looked up at the Captain a warm glow in his eyes. Barry knew they hadn’t been married long and were probably still in that lovely honeymoon period where everything was still new.  It was confirmed from the smile on the Captain’s face as he looked at his husband in return. They continued to watch the dance until one of the dancers noticed Rob’s foot tapping and pulled him out on the floor with Joe and the others.

                Barry watched the Captain smiling as Rob clearly started to enjoy himself learning steps from the woman wearing nearly nothing. There was a warm openness about the man Barry had never seen, far removed from the hard-arse that ran the bullpen at the station.

                “What is it, Mr Allen?”  he demanded suddenly, and Barry realised he’d been staring.

                “Ah, nothing,” he replied, flushing as Singh pinned him with a stare that demanded explanation. “Just that…love looks good on you…sir.”

                He beat a hasty retreat to Singh’s shocked expression. Finding distraction from his embarrassment with a server who was still wandering the party with more food.            

                After the dancers retreated a group of card tables were set up for poker and blackjack.  There was no money involved but there were prizes for the winners of each table of expensive bottles of booze. Barry won two bottles of scotch at blackjack, much to Joe’s delight. Unfortunately for Barry that was where it ended, as Reggie appeared at his elbow an arm draped across the back of his chair and Barry was too distracted and lost the last two hands before he conceded the table to someone else.

                There was more food floating around, which Barry tried to eat without making a pig of himself this time, and then their time in the event room was over. Everyone in the party was given two hundred dollars in chips and told to go out into the casino proper to try their luck. With the official part of events over and done with, Barry was left to his own devices as the party split up. Joe wasn’t a gambler, so gave his chips to Barry and told him to have fun, while he followed Eddie and his closest friends to the craps tables.

                Barry watched them go, feeling quite happy with the way the night had gone but now at a loss as to what to do.  He wasn’t much a gambler either but he did enjoy the blackjack so headed for the mid-level tables and set up at one that had an empty seat. The money wasn’t his, so he had no problem with losing it.

                It wasn’t long before he was three hundred dollars up. Then about half an hour later he was eight hundred dollars up.  By the end of the hour he was a thousand up and was wondering whether to keep going or get out while the going was good. A presence at his back drew his attention and he was astounded to find Reggie, his face graced with a happy smile standing behind Barry’s chair, his arm quickly coming to rest against the back.

                “Oh, uh, hey,” Barry stammered a greeting.

                “You look like you’re doing well,” Reggie commented. “This must be your lucky night.”  His gaze was intense and Barry knew he wasn’t talking about the cards.

                “Ah, well, I was just getting ready to leave,” Barry said, telling the croupier he was out and gathering his chips. “I have work early tomorrow.” He got up from the chair and turned to go, only to have Reggie fall in step with him his hand resting in the small of Barry’s back as they manoeuvred through the crowd, the younger man guiding him off the floor and back towards the main entrance.

                “I’m leaving soon myself,” Reggie said. “We could share a cab if you like?” The hand in Barry’s back shifted a little lower, half over his belt.

                “Ah, hang on a minute,” Barry said, moving away from him and pulling out his phone. “That’s me, vibrating.” He turned away quickly before Reggie could make anything of that. He pretended to pick up the call. “Yeah, hi,” he said.  He put his hand over the phone. “Could you excuse me a minute. I have to take this.” He turned and walked away from the younger man, letting the crowd swallow him up.  He kept the phone to his ear but moved quickly away from the area finding himself in the violent noise of the slot machines.  He moved between the rows, apologising as he knocked into people with his nervous stumbling. He found himself at the far end, where the lights were lower, taking a moment to catch his breath. A drunk middle-aged woman staggered past and Barry was forced to step backwards out of her way, only to back into someone behind him.

                “I’m really sorry,” he started to apologise, turning to see who he’d almost knocked over. Standing there glaring at him was Leonard Snart. The thief’s face fell into an expression of surprise before it changed again to his usual knowing smirk.

                “Good evening, Barry,” he drawled. “A little past your bedtime, isn’t it?”

                “Um,” Barry stammered, too shocked to find a coherent reply. “Bachelor party.” He finally blurted out.

                “Yours?” Snart enquired, looking confused.

                “Eddie’s,” Barry replied, still too surprised to form a full sentence. Why was Snart here? Was he casing the casino for a heist? Was he in the middle of one?

                “Ah,” Snart replied with a nod that said he was about to turn away and leave.

                At that moment at the far end of the row, Reggie came into view his expression searching. Damn he was still looking for Barry.  He was trapped here at the back of the space, it wasn’t going to be easy to leave without being seen. Not knowing how or why the thought came to him he grabbed Snart by the front of his leather jacket and speed dragged him back against the wall into an alcove that had a potted palm in it. Snart snorted at the rough frond in his face before shoving it aside.

                “Barry, what the hell is going on?”  he hissed.

                “Snart, you have to save me!” Barry hissed in return, looking over his shoulder to see Reggie moving slowly down the aisle between the machines, his eyes scanning the area.

                Snart’s body instantly tensed. “Save you from what?”  He began to turn his head to see what was behind them.

                Barry put a hand to his cheek, stopping him. “Don’t turn around.  Don’t draw attention. Just hide me ‘til he’s gone.”

                “Who’s he?”  Snart asked, looking concerned. “Some meta chasing you?”

                Barry shook his head vehemently. “It’s the best man.”

                Snart forehead creased. “Is that one of Ramon’s codenames?”

                “No, I mean the actual best man, Eddie’s little brother,” Barry hissed, his hand still on Snart’s cheek to make sure he didn’t turn his head.

                “What?”

                “The guy has roving eyes and hands. I am totally not interested but he won’t take no for an answer.”

                Snart’s face turned to one of the profound amusement. “So, you need me to protect your honour, Barry, is that what you’re asking?”

                Barry stared for a moment then sighed, knowing he was going to regret this. “Yes, alright, if that’s how you want to look at it but just stay there, please.”

                To his great surprise Snart took a step forward right into Barry’s space. He placed one hand on the wall beside Barry’s head and the other on Barry’s waist, inside his open jacket, fingers curling into the fabric of his vest.

                “What are you doing?” Barry demanded, looking up into Snart’s smirking face. It was only an inch from his own.

                “The only ones hiding in a dark alcove are people looking for privacy,” Snart practically purred. “We have to make it believable or your boy is going to look twice.”

                Barry blushed furiously, feeling the heat from his face warm the small space between them.

                Snart tilted his head to the side a little. “Where’s your unwanted admirer?”

                Barry peeked over his shoulder briefly before ducking his head down. The grip he had on Snart’s lapel tightened. “He’s right behind you,” he whispered. “Please, don’t move.”

                Snart leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. His aftershave wafted around Barry, light and spicy and Barry unconsciously took a deep nose full of it. His heart was beating even faster than usual and he was very aware of Snart’s hand resting firmly on his waist.

                “I’m not going anywhere, Scarlet.”  Snart assured him, his voice a low husky whisper, making Barry blush again. “Do speedsters always give off this much heat, or is it just you?”

                Barry radiated more heat, unable to stop himself and Snart chuckled quietly, the sound causing odd flips in Barry’s stomach he hadn’t expected.

                Snart’s hand on the wall moved to rest on Barry’s neck, his thumb stroking up to Barry’s ear and back. “You can relax, Scarlet. This isn’t a life or death situation. No need to get so worked up.”

                Barry closed his eyes, hoping just breathing would ease his embarrassment. It simply made him more aware of the thumb caressing his delicate skin, the weight of Snart’s hand on his waist and the warmth building up between them. This was ridiculous, how was he being so affected by this? It was Snart for god’s sake.

                The thief tilted his head again. “Is he gone?” he whispered just as low as before.

                Barry peeked again, not seeing Reggie in front of them. He leaned further forward, looking over Snart’s shoulder, catching a glimpse of the young man disappearing down the next aisle.

                “Okay, I have a window,” Barry said quietly, leaning back. As he did so his cheek brushed Snart’s and he was blushing again. It was then he realised he still had his hand on the criminal’s other cheek and withdrew it slowly, not wanting him to think he was disturbed by the motion. “I better go before he doubles back.”

                “Come one, I’ll keep you covered until you’re clear,” Snart told him. The hand on his waist slid around to his back and pulled him off the wall with the barest of pressure, guiding him back down the aisle and out of the area. Snart’s hand stayed under his jacket in the small of his back, all the way out of the casino until they were on the street.

                “Thanks, Snart,” Barry muttered, poking his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground.

                “That’s the second time I’ve had to save you from unwanted attentions of men,” Snart commented, his trademark smirk in place. “I might have to take a position as your knight in ice-clad armour.”

                “My hero,” Barry muttered, though he felt no humour in the remark. He was feeling more than a little humiliated by the whole incident. He looked up. Snart was staring at him in concern now and the last thing he needed was sympathy. “I better go,” he waved vaguely down the street. “I’ll take off from down the block, thanks again.”

                “I’ll walk with you a ways,” Snart told him. “My bike’s down that way.”

                Barry didn’t really want the company but had no excuse to say so. He’d be by himself soon enough. Snart made no effort at conversation as they walked and Barry began to feel uncomfortable.

                "So, were you casing the place?” he asked, not coming up with anything else.

                Snart chuckled. “You always think the worst of me, Scarlet. No, as a matter of fact they have a very nice restaurant on the second floor. The kangaroo in bush spices is amazing.”

                “You were there for dinner?”  Barry said. “That’s all?”

                “Does there always have to be something else?  I do eat.”

                “By yourself?” Barry asked, suspicious.

                “Well it’s not the sort of place Mick likes, and Lisa refuses to watch me eat ‘Skippy’, whatever that is,” Snart replied with a shrug.

                “Don’t you have any other friends?”  Barry asked then.

                “Not particularly,” Snart replied. “I don’t trust anyone else enough.”

                “Sounds lonely,” Barry commented quietly, though he had to admit there were few enough people in his life he felt particularly trusting of.  “Sorry, I mean – just sorry.”

                “What’s wrong, Barry?” he asked, his smirk and drawl had disappeared, replaced by something that sounded genuinely concerned.

                “It’s just this whole wedding thing is still shitting me,” he admitted.  “And now the best man wants to -.” He shook his head in frustration. “And I can’t just tell him to piss off because then he’ll get upset and that’ll cause tension and ruin Iris’ big day and – fuck, god forbid I should have any reason to do that!”

                “So, not still pining then?” Snart asked, a little of his humour back.

                Barry shrugged. “No, I’ve clearly gone passed that to the angry stage. God, it’d be so much easier if she just didn’t love me so much, wasn’t so fucking happy to see me all the time, just not in the way I ever wanted.”

                Barry realised they’d already crossed two blocks as he’d spoken. The streets here were empty this late at night and there was virtually no traffic. “I better take off now,” he said, turning into the dark of a nearby alley, where there was no possibility of anyone seeing him speed away.

                Snart followed him a little way into the alley. “Stay safe, Barry.” He still sounded concerned.

                Barry grinned. “Stay good, Snart.”

                The shuffling of footsteps from the street made them both turn to the end of the alley, where three men stepped out of the street light and into the shadows. They were sillouhetted in the light from the street, but Barry could easily see the weapons each one held, a crowbar, two knives.

                Snart sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Seriously? You’re going to try and mug _us_?” He sounded put out rather than frightened.

                “No mugging here, Snart,” said one of the men. “An old friend just wants to say hello to you and your toy boy here.”

                “Blackmore, that you?”  Snart asked, the man’s eyes narrowing in an attempt to see more.

                “Nice to see you remember me, Snart,” the man sounded happy to be recognised, even as he hefted the six-inch hunting knife he was carrying.

                Barry took a few steps back until he’d drawn level with Snart.  “So, who’s this?”

                Snart grinned. “Stan Blackmore, your basic thug for hire.  A little smarter than most but hardly any sort of genius.”

                “Now, now Snart,” Blackmore sounded hurt. “We all have our areas of expertise.”

                “And yours is beating people to death. Who are you working for this time?” Snart demanded, sounding even more unimpressed.

                “I’m sure you remember old Charlie Wilks?” 

                Snart let out a bark of laughter. “Last I heard Wilks was in jail for robbery.”

                “He called in a few favours from the outside,” the man replied. “Once he knew you were back in town he wanted you to be reacquainted with him.”

                “Wilks?”  Barry asked quickly.

                “Never you mind, Barry,” Snart replied, his Cold drawl firmly in place, telling Barry he was in fight mode. “You just run along now.”

                “Like hell, I’ve put too much time into you to let you get murdered in an alley. One I’ll have to attend tomorrow anyway.”

                Snart favoured him with a pleased smirk, just visible in the low light. “I love how you care about me.”

                Barry felt the blush rising up his cheeks again.

                “Don’t do anything _stupid_ , Barry,” Snart said then, his tone hard enough to let Barry know he was talking about superspeed.

                Barry steeled himself, drawing himself up. “Alright. But I’m still not leaving.”

                Snart sighed and shook his head. “Come along then gentlemen, let’s get this over with.”

                The three walked forward unconcerned that they didn’t have an overwhelming advantage of numbers. They focused on Snart, seeming to find Barry below their attention. Barry admitted he wasn’t anything great when it came to fighting without his speed but still, he warranted some thought.

                Snart stood his ground simply waiting for the men to approach him. The one with the crowbar lashed out with his empty hand, taking Snart square in the jaw. To Barry’s great surprise and even greater pride Snart just turned with the blow, his head snapping to the side but coming back to straight after only a moment. 

                “That all you got?” Snart asked. He retaliated with his own blow, knocking the man backwards a few steps from the force of it. Before the others could move he’d kicked one in the crotch and moved to grab the knife arm of the other, turning the blade up and away before he could get the blade near him.

                It was too dark for Barry to see much of what happened next but he was sure that Snart was more than capable of holding his own against the three. Barry moved in close, easily distracting and dodging one of the knives in the dark as he tried to keep one of the men off Snart long enough for him to get the upper hand, with the others. Over the sound of shuffling feet and grunts of pain and effort, Barry continued to dodge and weave, only once landing an ineffective blow to the man’s gut before he had to quickly back peddle out of the way of the swinging knife.

                There was a sharp hiss from Snart and Barry momentarily forgot the man in front of him to turn towards the thief. He was rising from where he’d been bent over, clutching his right leg in pain. Barry couldn’t make out his face but the set of his shoulders told Barry he wasn’t happy. The criminal launched himself at the attacker with the crowbar. Barry watched in no little awe as Len grappled with his assailant. Len was a brawler, his fighting skills learned through a lifetime of unfortunate situations where he’d had to defend himself. There were none of the complicated moves that defined Oliver’s years of training. But there was a grace to the precise power of Len’s punches and blocks that captured Barry’s attention.

                He was so taken up with watching the roll of Len’s shoulders and the shift of his feet that he nearly missed the blade coming out of the dark at him again. He ducked, launching a kick at the man’s knee, taking satisfaction in the dull crunch and the way the man collapsed. Barry followed with a second kick to his weapon arm, happy to see the blade go pitching off into the darkness of the alley. He turned to see how Len was doing and as he did so his attacker leapt from the ground, tackling him around the waist. They both went down in a heap, the air rushing from Barry’s lungs as his back impacted with the concrete. He lay wheezing, trying to get his focus back as the man straddled him, preparing to launch a punch that would surely have Barry out cold, when there was a dull thump from behind and the man collapsed on top of him, unconscious. Barry tried to shift off the now dead weight of the man, to find Snart standing over them, tossing the crowbar aside he’d used to subdue him. He bent over Barry with difficulty, shoving the body off him and helping him to his feet. The other two men were also out cold and Barry was impressed with the efficiency with which Snart had dispatched them.

                Barry grabbed his forearm in order to steady himself as he stood, Len letting out another hiss of pain as Barry’s hand slid across his wet skin.  The fluid was thick and warm and it didn’t take Barry long to realise Len was bleeding.

                “How bad is it?” Barry demanded, already beginning to guide the thief towards the mouth of the alley where there was more light.

                “Only a few scratches,” Snart replied but the tension in his voice and body told Barry it was more than that.

                Once Barry could see by the street light he assessed the wound on Snart’s forearm and realised it wasn’t the only one. There were also two on his right thigh, long deep gashes that were bleeding freely, soaking into the dark fabric of his jeans. Several of the man’s knuckles were bloodied as well, wide splits in the skin where they’d broken open.

                Barry wasted no time, simply grabbing the criminal up and speeding him away towards home.

 

                Barry deposited him gently on the bed and disappeared at superspeed, searching the bathroom and kitchen for the supplies he’d need. Joe always kept basic first aid supplies on hand and Barry was sure it would be enough for what he needed to fix Snart.

                When he returned to the bedroom, Snart was rising painfully so he could sit on the edge of the bed where Barry had left him. Barry dropped the items on the bedside table and gently helped him to sit up.

                “Where are we?”  Snart demanded, looking around with interest. The thief looked slightly green, probably a result of moving at superspeed. He wasn’t be the first to get motion sickness from the fast travel.

                “What, you didn’t have a poke around when you were here at Christmas?”  Barry asked, setting a bowl of warm water on the floor as his feet and kneeling in front of the criminal.

                “Too busy making cocoa,” the thief replied and Barry huffed in amusement.

                “Right, well, this is my room,” he told him, getting the soft cloth ready by soaking it in the bowl.

                “What are we doing here?”

                “You took me home to look after me, thought I’d do the same,” he paused frowning, and looked up at Snart. “Unless you’d rather go to a hospital?”

                “Not my first choice,” Snart replied.

                Barry swore quietly, looking at the slashes in his thigh. “I need to get your jeans off.”

                “Trying to get me naked, Scarlet?” Snart asked with a smirk.

                “No jokes right now, okay?”  Barry told him. “We just need to get you cleaned up. But this is gonna hurt.”

                “Not the first time,” Snart replied quietly. “Quicker the better.”

                The bed rocked and Snart gasped as Barry pulled his boots and pants off at superspeed, trying to make it as quick as possible.

                “You okay?” Barry asked, worried he’d caused more pain than was necessary.

                Snart nodded, still looking sick. “I’m alright.”

                Barry then started to cleanse the wounds, letting warm water clear out the dried and clotted blood and making sure it was free of anything nasty from the alley before he lathered the cuts in antiseptic and dressed them. He layered a wad of cotton over the top of each cut before wrapping them in light bandages, his fingers sliding over the firm muscles of Snart’s thigh as he bound them up. When he was done he ran his hands over them again, making sure they were firm enough but not too tight.

                “You’re going to a lot of trouble for a few shallow cuts,” Snart told him, his voice soft.

                “Better more than not enough,” Barry replied, turning his attention to the gashes on Snart’s forearm. He followed the same procedure, gently cleaning and wrapping. He became aware Snart was watching him closely as he worked but he tried to ignore the scrutiny, keeping his eyes on the task at hand. He finally turned his attention to the cuts where Snart’s knuckles had split from landing so many punches. He placed his hand under Snart’s, making the man hold his hand out flat as he cleaned them off. He then rested them on his own leg as he wrapped them.

                “They don’t need to be wrapped,” Snart said.

                “Better that than me trying to explain to Joe how I got blood on my sheets,” Barry replied, stroking gently over the bandages to make sure all was right.

                “Why are we in your bedroom, Barry?”  he asked then, a smirk back on his face as the pain had eased.

                “’Cause I don’t know when Joe is going to be home and I don’t want to explain what you’re doing here.”

                “You could have run me back to my safehouse.”

                “Didn’t know if you’d still be staying there. They’re only supposed to be temporary, right?”

                “So how are you going to explain me being in your bedroom?”

                “Joe doesn’t come in unless he has a good reason. You’ll be safe here until tomorrow morning.”

                “What makes you so sure I’ll be staying?”

                Barry paused, thinking about that. There really was no reason for the man to stay if he didn’t want too. He nodded. “I can speed you back to your safehouse if you’d feel more comfortable there. Or back to your bike in that street. But you’re free to stay if you want. It’s up to you.”

                He stood then to give him the chance to think. As he did so, a casino chip fell from his pocket. He grimaced and picked it up, dipping his hand in his pocket to take out the rest, scattering them without thought on his bedside table.

                “Barry, where did those come from?”  Snart asked, looking interested.

                “Huh? Oh, I won them. Guess I should take them back.”

                “If you won them you should cash them in,” Snart told him.

                Barry nodded absently, distracted. Snart questioning whether he’d stay was worrying with him for some reason though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

                “Barry.” Snart drew his attention back. “There’s over a thousand dollars in chips here.  How did you get that?”

                “Blackjack.”

                “Really?”

                Barry shrugged. “College professor taught me how to count cards. It’s fun but I never really found it useful.”

                “It’s also against the rules.”

                “I don’t use it.”

                “You could. Poorly paid public servant that you are. Why don’t you?”

                “’Cause there are only four casinos in Central and it’d take no time for their security systems to pick me out if I went back repeatedly.”

                “There are ways around that.”

                Barry flailed a hand at the chips. “Really don’t care right now, more worried about you.”

                Snart stared at him then, something different about his face. It was softer, more open, just like the portrait at the gallery had been. “Worried how?”

                “I just don’t want you to reopen any of the cuts, maybe make them worse, that’s all. I mean, I can take you home if you want but the run might cause -.”

                “I’ll stay,” Snart cut in. “Just in case.”

                Barry smiled gently, happy he was staying though again he couldn’t pin down a reason why. “I’ll be down on the couch.” He got up to leave.

                “And how are you going to explain that to West?” he asked. “You sleep there often?”

                “Well no but -.”

                “This is a double bed Barry, there’s enough room. Promise I won’t try anything. Will you?” he challenged with a suggestively raised eyebrow.

                Barry felt his face heat up again and he looked away. “Why do you have to do that?”

                “Do what?”

                “Be such an obnoxious prick all the time?”

                “It’s my nature,” Snart replied, with an amused smirk. “But doesn’t mean I’m lying. You’re as safe here as you were in my bed.”

                “Why wouldn’t I be safe?” Barry asked suddenly, curious that kept coming up. He hadn’t been worried Snart would try anything, he was more worried about knocking Snart’s wounds in the night.

                Snart frowned considering, then grinned. “I’m attracted to intelligence, wit and beauty, in that order.” He waved a hand up and down at Barry. “The gender package it comes in is irrelevant.”

                Barry’s jaw dropped open and Snart laughed flopping back on the bed. He patted the sheets suggestively and Barry was blushing again.

                “Honestly, Scarlet, you have to stop that or you’ll combust.”

                “Shut up,” Barry muttered, looking away. He now understood what Snart had been doing back at the casino. Just taking another opportunity that presented itself, stealing what he could get away with. Barry knew he should be angry being used like that but for some reason he didn’t care, after all it had kept Reggie away from him. It also made for effective payment already made if Snart decided to make an issue of that.

                From downstairs there was the rattle of a key in the lock and Barry knew Joe was home. He sighed, there was no getting out of here now.

                “Can you stand up?”  he asked Snart, quietly.

                Snart grinned but complied, rising slowly on his injured leg. Barry pulled the covers back and gestured for him to lie back down. He pulled his pyjamas from under the pillow and speed changed.  He turned to find Snart lounging on the far side of the bed, his expression interested as if he’d been trying to see something. Barry rolled his eyes and turned out the lights, locking the door to make sure Joe didn’t come in by accident. He pulled the covers up and climbed into bed, rolling so he was facing away from him.

                He listened to Snart sigh and then shift slightly. There was no movement after that and Barry let himself drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Barry and Len spend the night together. Len does some tidying up and the Singhs get an unexpected invitation from Central City's favorite red-clad speedster.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry has more nightmares, but thankfully he has someone to help him through his bad night.  
> Also the Singhs get a visit from Central City's favourite vigilante.

                Leonard Snart lay staring at the ceiling wondering how on earth he’d got so lucky as to end up in Barry Allen’s bed? True it wasn’t for the reasons he ultimately wanted but the kid was still beside him, radiating that gorgeous speedster heat that warmed the space under the covers, making for a cosy and restful place to relive the past and contemplate the future.

                The casino had been an unexpected joy. Of course, he’d followed the young man there, that was all part of the plan but Barry pulling him into a dark corner and literally begging for his help had been a wonderful surprise. Feeling the heat of Barry’s blushes had been arousing to say the least and Len was glad he hadn’t pressed himself so firmly against Barry the kid had felt the effect those flushes of warmth had caused. Still the shape of Barry’s firm waist muscles under his hand and the feel of that deliciously soft skin under his fingers was going to be a pleasant memory for a long time.

                But what was the next step? This turning up at unexpected places, although amusing wasn’t having the desired effect. Of course, up until now Barry seemed to have been completely ignorant of Len’s sexual preferences so it may be that the young man would finally start to twig to the reasons Len had been hanging around so much. Barry seemed comfortable in his presence, enough so to open up about the things troubling him and to laugh with Len when things were funny. The speedster did in fact see them as friends. It could be a good beginning or it could be as far as the young man intended to go. So now was the point where Len had to work out how to express his desires without driving Barry away. A number of ideas swirled through his mind but none coalesced into a plan yet.  He took a deep breath letting it out slowly and closed his eyes, letting the memories of tracing fingers over Barry’s neck send him off to sleep.

                It was still dark when Len opened his eyes, body tense with alertness. Something had woken him. Barry was murmuring in his sleep.  Nightmares again? Len began to wonder how often the kid was troubled by them. The speedster began to toss, his arms flailing as he lifted them to fend something off in the darkness of his dreams.

                “Fucking loop,” Barry whispered. “…loop…”

                He continued to whimper out agonised words, though Len could make out few of them.  Len was getting ready to grab him up as he had before when Barry suddenly sat up with a gasp. “Mom!” he cried out, loud and anguished. A hand went over his mouth and he started to tremble as if he wanted to cry but refused to give in to the need.

                “Hey,” Len whispered gently, reaching out a hand to brush his shaking forearm.

                Barry’s head whipped round in shock, having clearly forgotten for the moment Len was there. He leapt out of the bed, his feet getting tangled in the covers and fell in a heap on the floor with a loud thump.

                Len slid across the bed, ignoring the stinging pain in his wounds and sat on the side, helping Barry to a sitting position.  The kid _was_ crying now. He put his head in one hand, refusing to look at Len. His shoulders were shaking with silent sobs and Len reached out to put a hand on one. Barry instantly shook it off and Len sat back, letting him be for the moment.

                Len looked up at the sound of footsteps hurrying down the hall.

                “Barry!?” West’s voice from just outside the door was concerned. “You okay?”

                Barry sat back taking a large breath. “Yeah, Joe,” he called back, clearly trying to make his voice sound less agonised. “Just the usual.”

                Usual? So, this was a regular occurrence for Barry.

                “You want to talk about it?”  Joe called, sounding more worried. Len picked up the slight metallic twist of the doorhandle being turned very slowly only to stop at the lock.

                “No!” Barry replied, firmly. “No different than any other time. I’ll be fine. Go back to bed.”

                There was a long pause. “Okay Bear.”  The footsteps retreated slower than they’d arrived.

                He glanced at Len and the thief offered him a questioningly lifted eyebrow before the kid put his head in his hands again. Of course he was ashamed to be seen like this.  Len would have been too. But Barry was unaware Len had already seen him this disturbed.

                “Barry,” he said quietly, after about five minutes. “Come on, back to bed.”

                Barry shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes and making no move to get up from where he was sitting with his knees pulled up under his chin. Len sighed and tried very hard to lower himself to the floor alongside Barry without letting on how much it hurt but a soft grunt still escaped him as he rested his back against the side of the bed. He didn’t ask Barry to talk and Barry wasn’t forthcoming. They sat for another ten minutes before Len felt Barry had pulled himself together enough for Len to reach out and place a hand on the kid’s back, beginning to run his fingertips slowly up and down his spine.

                Barry took a long shuddering breath at the touch but didn’t draw away, just putting his head into his knees again, wrapping his arms tighter around his legs. After a few more minutes of Len’s gentle touch Barry finally lifted his head. “You want to know, don’t you?”

                “Only if you want to tell me,” Len replied gently, fingers not pausing. “Seemed obvious it was your mom’s murder.”

                Barry huffed and shook his head. “I used to think that was the worst thing I could go through. Then I learned I have to live with the decisions I make.”

                Len felt his heart clench but said nothing for a long time. “What’s the loop?” he asked eventually, unable to stand the agonised expression on Barry’s face anymore.

                “A series of events in time and space that I’m trapped in,” Barry replied, staring blankly ahead then as if seeing those events.

                “Trapped how?”

                “Somewhere in the future, a man named Eobard Thawne becomes a speedster –  the Reverse Flash. And we become enemies. Then he decides the best way for him to get rid of me is to come back in time and kill me before I become the Flash. I travel back too and get my eleven-year-old self away from him before he can kill me.  He then decides if he can’t kill me he’ll traumatise me to the point I’ll never be able to function. He kills my mom instead and I’m too slow to stop him doing that.”

                Len stared, trying to keep his expression blank all the while his mind whirling with the information Barry was dumping on him. Barry could travel in time?

                Barry then grinned, a humourless and slightly manic expression. “But then he tried to time travel again, and this time he got stuck in the past, where he lost use of the Speed Force and couldn’t get back.  There was only one way for him to get home – he needed another speedster to run fast enough to break a hole in the space-time continuum. He had to create the thing he hated most – the Flash. So, he killed the real Harrison Wells, built the particle accelerator in his place and caused it to explode that night, all for the sole reason of me getting my powers. Then he took me in, gained my trust and trained me to get faster so I could get him home.”

                “Did you do it?” Len asked. He hadn’t seen or heard the outcome of any of this.

                Barry nodded, his face crumpling as more tears streaked his cheeks. “I wasn’t going too but he told me I could save my mom by going back through the same portal as him.  I did but I still couldn’t save mom. My future self stopped me. I realised her death, dad in prison, it was what drove me, made me who I am. I change that I change everything about me. So, I came back ready to stop him. But Eddie was Eobard’s direct ancestor. He shot himself in the chest so Eobard would never be born. Eobard simply dissolved out of existence.”

Barry was crying again his shoulders shaking with repressed sobs. “Meanwhile as a side effect of opening the portal a singularity formed over the city – it could have sucked in the whole planet if we didn’t stop it. And I wasn’t fast enough to close it, couldn’t fix what I’d done by trying to save mom and Firestorm had to do it – and Ronnie was killed.  He and Caitlin had only been married for a few hours.”  He looked up at Len then. “Hours!” the word came out a choked whisper and Barry dropped his head back to his knees for a few more minutes, while Len processed the idea that the massive destructive thing that had swirled above the city half a year ago had been such a huge side effect of something so personal.

                Barry finally looked up and stared at the him, his face looking even worse. “It’s all been me. My selfish decision to try and save mom, my selfish decision to not save her in the end. And other people had to clean up my mess – at the cost of their own lives. Ronnie should have been ‘the Hero of Central City’ and had his own day. Eddie will never be without that scar on his chest – Iris will have to see it every time they -.” He burst into tears again. “It’s on me, it’s all on me,” he wept quietly.

                Len shifted so he was right beside Barry, wrapping arms around the speedster. Barry didn’t respond for a minute before he finally let go, relaxing into Len as he continued to cry. “And it’s still out there,” Barry whispered brokenly. “That future, where Reverse Flash and I go back in time and I’m still going to make the same selfish decision to save my younger self rather than my mom, because even in the future I still won’t be fast enough to defeat Thawne. Not fast enough, not fast enough.”  He murmured it a few more times before he quietened, finally wrapping arms around Len’s chest as he collapsed in a broken heap against him, his body shaking as he wept silently into Len’s shirt.

                Len let the kid cry himself out, which took a long time since it was clear Barry had never expressed these thoughts to anyone before. He’d been holding this in for over six months. Surely his family and friends had been assuring him it wasn’t like that. But Barry clearly didn’t believe them. Len just continued to caress Barry’s back as the kid took comfort from him until he finally stilled. Len then encouraged him back to bed and wrapped him up in blankets and arms. The outburst had left Barry exhausted and he was asleep in moments.

 

                The first thing Barry became aware of the next morning was that his throat was sore, and then that his eyes felt dry and then that there was a buzzing to his right that had to be his morning alarm. With a soft groan he flailed out to his right, hoping to hit it by luck and shut it off. What he got was a low grunt as he slapped Snart across the face.

                “Good morning to you too, Barry,” the thief groaned, sitting up.

                Barry sat up, instantly awake. The events of last night came back to him and he blushed deep red at the memory of how he’d collapsed in Snart’s arms. Without looking at the man he was out of the room, down to the bathroom, and speed dressed for work before Snart had finished rubbing his eyes open.

                “Is this the way all your mornings go?” Snart asked, throwing back the covers and swinging his legs over the edge. “Or just when you wake up with a thief?”

                Barry blushed again. “First time I’ve ever – I mean, yeah, most mornings.”

                Snart was smirking as he stood up and limped painfully over to where Barry had thrown his torn jeans and boots the night before. Barry sped over and picked them up so he didn’t have to try and bend down with the slices in his leg. He held them out to Snart’s surprised expression. Their hands touched as he passed them over and Snart was smirking again at Barry’s sudden discomfort.

                “You gonna help me put them on as well?”  he challenged, something hopeful in the lift of his eyebrows.

                Barry opened his mouth but then slammed it shut. Now Snart knew he knew about his preferences the criminal was going to flaunt it in front of him to embarrass Barry as much as possible. Barry straightened his shoulders, deciding to confront the challenge. “If you need help.”

                Snart grinned. “Think I can manage.”

                Barry nodded and turned to his bedside table, refusing to blush for the man anymore. He grabbed up his phone and keys, putting them in his pockets. Then, remembering something he opened the bottom draw and pulled out a small cardboard box. He held it up to show Snart who was just buttoning up his jeans.

                “This is for Rory,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to get it to him but you can take it with you.”

                “What is it?” Snart asked, looking interested.

                “A thank you gift,” Barry told him simply, putting the box on the bedside.

                “Barry?”  the call came from the hall outside.

                Barry sighed, something else he had to deal with. He gestured for Snart to stay quiet and then went to the door, opening it only a small part of the way to see Joe, ready for work.

                “Morning!” he greeted him, a little too brightly.

                Joe looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow that he was already dressed but taking in the bags under his eyes before speaking. “You okay this morning?”

                Barry nodded with another smile. “Yeah, it’s all good. Just a brief hiccup last night.”

                Joe stared at him for a long moment more, probably weighing the idea of prompting Barry to once again talk to him about his nightmares or worse yet go see someone else about them. Neither was an option Barry was interested in taking, even more so this morning after last night’s outburst in front of Snart.

                “Okay, I’m leaving now, you want a lift?” he asked, and Barry was grateful he let go of the nightmare thing.

                “Nah, I’m going to make breakfast before I leave, so I’ll see you there,” he replied with a smile that he was sure Joe knew wasn’t genuine.

                “See you there then,” Joe said by way of goodbye, as he turned towards the stairs, giving Barry one last worried glance as Barry closed the door with a relieved sigh.

                When he turned around Snart had his boots back on was straightening his leather jacket.  There was the sound of the front door closing and Barry finally relaxed that they were alone in the house.

                “Bathroom is down the hall to the right,” he told Snart. “I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready.”

                Barry was setting toast and boxes of cereal down when Snart limped down the stairs to meet him at the dining room table.

                “Sorry I don’t have time for a cooked breakfast, but you know, I have a day job to get to.”

                Snart smiled gently and took a seat across from him. “This is fine, Barry.”

                Barry nodded and went back to the kitchen for milk and spreads.  They ate in silence. Barry scoffed down his second bowl of cereal and watched Snart’s measured movements as he took and seemed to savour each bite of toast, chewing slowly, his eyes on his plate. The thief didn’t seem inclined to bring up the events of last night, for which Barry was grateful.

                “So, who is Charlie Wilks?” he asked between bites of toast.

                Snart huffed. “We worked a job a few years ago. I was in need of an extended crew to do a bank job in Coast City. I hired him and his guys as backup, including Wilks as getaway driver. As much as I pride myself on my planning skills there is always the unpredictable.”

                Barry nodded, still eating.

                “The plan went awry when we hit a level of security that hadn’t been there the week before. Nothing too bad and if they’d held their nerve I could still have salvaged the job. But they ran like cowards and Wilks left with them in the getaway car, leaving me and Mick to fend for ourselves.”

                “So, you had to run?”  Barry asked, curious.

                “Don’t be ridiculous, Scarlet. I still managed to make it work. Mick and I got away with the money. However, Wilks thinks that since he was there for part of the job he should still have got his share. I refused to give him anything. He’s still upset.”

                Barry nodded. “Clearly. What will you do about him?”

                Snart grinned. “Won’t kill him, I promise.” He lifted the knife, swiping a thin layer of butter over his toast in one long movement that impressed Barry. “But I will need to send him a message.” He shrugged at Barry’s concerned expression. “Prisons are such violent places.”

                Barry put his hands over his ears. “Do not want to know.”

                Snart continued to grin as he took another bite of toast.

                Barry looked at his watch and swore. “I got to go.” He looked at the table. “Um, just dump the plates in the sink when you’re done. I’ll wash everything up later.”  He looked at Snart who had raised a questioning eyebrow. “Sorry to run off on you.”

                “I’m heartbroken, Scarlet,” he pouted theatrically. Then he chuckled as Barry flushed in embarrassment. “Go to work Barry, I’ll take care of this while I wait for a taxi.”

                “Oh, um, do you want me to run you back to your bike?”

                “I can look after myself, Barry. Go to work!” It was a dismissal but a friendly one and Barry smiled at him before speeding upstairs to grab his bag and disappearing out the door in a blur of red lightning.

                It wasn’t until he arrived at the precinct and was in the elevator he thought about the fact he’d just left Leonard Snart with free access to his entire house. Oh god!

                Barry was in a strangely good mood that day, feeling lighter than he had in months. Joe seemed confused by his happiness when he got to work, considering his bad night but thankfully had refrained from asking about it. Eddie didn’t notice, he was too hungover from the night’s festivities to notice much of anything. Barry sped through his work and took an early lunch to congratulate himself. It was over the foot long sandwich he ordered that he contemplated why he was in such a good mood.

                He had to conclude it was because he’d spent the night with Snart. His nightmare aside, the man had looked after him with the care of one who knew how to deal with a traumatised person, which he supposed he was. Snart and Lisa both had to have their share of nightmares after their upbringing and subsequent life. Snart hadn’t pressed Barry for answers but had listened without judgement or more importantly, without trying to give advice. Barry had had enough of other people’s opinions and it had been nice to find someone who wasn’t so ready to try to fix Barry as everyone else. He’d finally put voice to everything that had been weighing on him and having released it made him feel lighter, even if it didn’t change his view point on any of it. Snart had offered him comfort and Barry had to admit that falling asleep with the man’s arm wrapped over his waist had been more comforting than anything else in the last six months. He should possibly read something into that, now that he’d learned Snart was interested in men as well as women but he couldn’t find it in him to think badly of the thief. It had just been a relief to not feel alone in those dark hours.

 

                When Barry arrived home that night the house looked the same as when he left, much to his relief. The dining table was empty, the kitchen was clean. Snart had washed up and put away the dishes and plates before he left, along with all other evidence of their breakfast together. When Barry went upstairs he saw an envelope on his bedside table. Opening it, he found what amounted to twelve hundred dollars and a note. He gazed at the money and message in surprise. He’d only ever seen Snart’s handwriting once before but he wasn’t surprised by the narrow clearly printed letters, precisely shaped and rendered, nor the capitals that had just that little bit of theatrical flourish to them that spoke of Snart’s flair for the dramatic.

                _Firstly, thanks for the lighter, Mick will love it._

                Barry grinned. The lighter had been something special he’d had made up. It was a simple stainless steel case but he’d had the initials MR embossed one side and HW on the other, hoping the arsonist would like the personalised touch to the gift. It was the least he could do for the help he’d offered that night at the gallery.

                  _Second, I cleaned up after breakfast. Found some nasty stuff at the back of the fridge when I was putting the milk away, so cleaned it all out for you_.

                Snart had gone through his fridge?

                _Thirdly, I may have tidied your room a little before I left. I may have gone overboard._

                Barry looked around, realising his room did look different. Snart had made the bed and straightened all the items on his bedside table and desk. Where he’d just been shoving half-read books back on the shelf on their sides Snart had stood them all up on end again, pushing the bookends back into place. As he went to check he was sure he’d even dusted. Feeling a little creeped out by the act he went back to the note.

_Lastly, I cashed in the chips for you. Something told me you’d never get around to it yourself. Something also tells me you’ll probably need the money to feed your shoe fetish._

_Len_

               The large number of shoes Barry dumped in a pile near the door had disappeared. With an uncomfortable feeling Barry went to the built-in wardrobe. Every pair of the many joggers and sneakers he owned were lined up neatly along the floor, arranged by colour. His gaze lifted to his clothes, which Snart had rearranged so the shirts were all together, then the pants, then other items. A little overboard? Barry was feeling more than a little freaked out by Snart going out of his way to organise his belongings. He imagined the man trying to tidy up a little, only to find so many things his organised mind couldn’t stand to look at.  That was probably what had happened with the fridge.  Barry started to grin. Well, there was something he could ask him about the next time he saw him. He realised he was wanting to see Snart again, sooner rather than later.

 

                David Singh turned off the car, happy he’d managed to find a park only half a block from CC Jitters. Of course, at this time of night the coffee shop was in its last hour of trade and there were few patrons and even less traffic now the work day was done and the peak hour was over. He looked across at Rob, who was checking his appearance in the mirror of the visor and smiled.

                “You look fine,” he said. “I doubt the Flash asked us here to look at your wardrobe or hair.”

                Rob scowled at him and then shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

                David grimaced. He was well aware his husband was a little star struck that the Flash had asked for him by name.  The plain envelope that had been sitting on David’s desk that morning had contained a letter that asked him and Rob to be on the roof of CC Jitters at 8:00pm to discuss something about a legal matter. There was no name to the computer printed letter but it had been signed with a hand drawn lightning bolt that was all too familiar to the police Captain. Although he had no reason to think the Flash was planning anything nefarious David was still nervous about exposing his husband to the vigilante in person. Trouble followed the red-clad speedster and it was with some nervousness that David had decided to see what he wanted.

                “What could the Flash have to ask me?” Rob asked as he got out of the car. “How could I be of help to him?”

                David rested his hand in the small of Rob’s back as they crossed the street. “We’re about to find out.”

                The ascent to the roof via the fire escape was laborious and David wished the Flash had chosen somewhere a little closer to ground level but on arrival they found a table had been set up with three chairs and surprisingly candles and a small vase of flowers. The police officer in him scanned the area for any threats but apart from one minor fire code violation he found nothing to give him any suspicions.

                “Do we sit?” Rob asked, looking uncertain.

                “Let’s wait until he shows,” David replied.

They only had to wait another thirty seconds before there was a burst of light and a rush of air and the Flash was standing in front of them.

“Good evening, Captain,” the young vigilante said, his face and voice blurred with vibration. “Mr Singh,” he inclined his head to Rob, who smiled back with an enthusiasm David found a bit too much.

“Flash,” David greeted him. “You wanted to discuss a legal matter?”

The young man nodded and gestured towards the table. They all sat, the Flash sitting back a little from the table perhaps to give them space from the sound of the constant vibration.

“Flash,” Rob said then. “I’m flattered you called for me on a legal matter but I don’t handle criminal law.”

“It’s not a criminal matter I need assistance with,” the hero replied with a smile. “I’m looking for someone to represent me in the licensing of my image and name.”

“Oh,” Rob said, with a surprised smile. “That I can do.”

The Flash smiled, his head dropping a little in a nod. He dipped into the suit and pulled out a folded piece of paper, sliding it across the table to Rob. “I’ve chosen a PR company that I think would do a good job with what I want. And I’ve included a list of the charities I want the profits to go to. But as you can understand it’s difficult for me to show up at an office in this,” he gestured to the suit. “So, I wanted to assign a representative to make sure they follow my instructions.”

“That makes sense,” Rob replied, a small frown creasing his forehead, the sort that David liked to reach out and smooth away but he refrained from doing so here in front of the hero. “But I have to ask, why would you choose me?”

It was a valid question and one David had been asking himself all day. How did the Flash even know about Rob in the first place?

The Flash was silent for a moment as if considering his words. “On the rare occasions I’ve had dealings with the police I’ve worked through Detective West. Joe has always spoken of Captain Singh as a dedicated and highly respected officer, and from the little I’ve seen myself I agree with that assessment,” he turned a respectful nod towards David. “I can’t imagine that the man he married would be any less upstanding or trustworthy. In doing my research I found out you were a lawyer and it seemed a good match.”

David sat back and watched the young hero. It was hard to read any expression with all the vibrating but the tone sounded sincere.

Rob flailed about for a moment. “Again, Flash, I’m flattered.”

“So you’ll take the position?” Flash asked, but then seemed to think of something else and his hand ran across the back of his neck in a display of nerves that seemed strangely familiar to David. “I do have to tell you, I can’t actually afford to pay you anything, so the work itself would be charity work. If you’re comfortable with that?”

Rob smiled. “Once the initial contracts are set up, there should be a minimum of work, so yes, that should be fine.” He considered the paper in front of him. “I can contact the company this week and begin work. Is there a way I can contact you if they or I have questions?”

“It might be better if I contacted you,” the Flash replied sounding a little uncomfortable. “The whole anonymity thing. If I can get your phone number then I’ll call you once a week to begin with, starting Friday afternoon?”

Rob nodded, still considering the paper but dipped into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, retrieving a business card. “My cell number is at the bottom.”

Flash nodded taking the card, and David could see the pleased smile. “Have you gentlemen had dinner yet?” he asked then.

“Ah, we were just going to grab a burger on the way home,” David replied, confused by the change of topic.

Flash grinned and there was a bright trail of lightning and a rush of air and he was gone. Before either of them could voice surprise, the vigilante was back with a large paper bag from Big Belly Burger and proceeded to lay out the contents at superspeed.

David stared at the burger, fries and soda in front of him in silent shock. Rob’s mouth was hanging open.

“I know it’s not exactly a gourmet meal,” Flash started, rubbing the back of his neck again. “But it’s my way of saying thank you.” He looked around, spreading his arms wide. “And the view up here has always been great.”

David suddenly realised the point behind the venue and the table. Flash was treating them to a private rooftop dinner. He smiled at Rob’s amazed expression.

“Thank you again gentlemen, I’ll be in touch,” Flash told them. “Have a nice evening.” Then he was gone in a burst of air, leaving the two of them looking at each other in astonishment.

David shook his head and opened the paper wrapping around his burger amazed that hero had chosen his favourite from the burger chain. Did the Flash know, or was it just luck? His frown quickly disappeared as Rob giggled. Giggling wasn’t something Rob did very often and David was always amazed to hear the sound.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

Rob was smiling brightly as he took a bite of the fry in his hand. “The Flash just asked for my number – and I gave it to him!” He giggled again.

David stared at him speechless and Rob burst into laughter.

“Babe, do I have competition?” David asked, looking mock offended.

Rob continued to grin and gave him a wink. “Depends what we do after this dinner.”

David smiled down at his food. This meeting with the Flash might have unexpected benefits.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Len is bringing Mick home after a successful bonfire for his pyromania. What could possibly get in their way?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len just wants to take Mick out and release his latest bout of pyromania. It should be easy right? But nothing is ever as easy as it should be in Central City these days. When some of Zoom's minions disturb Len's plans he finds himself fighting for his life, it's made slightly less of an inconvenience when the Flash shows up to help but not nearly enough!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what happened here. I thought the last chapter was a little short and needed something else to ground it, as I felt the scene with the Singhs just felt tacked on at the end. 
> 
> So, I thought a nice little action scene would give Barry and Len some more interaction and bring the narrative back to being about them. 
> 
> 9000 words later!!! I had a whole other chapter that was never planned to be here. It seriously took me too long to write and ended up being way too long but I hope you can forgive that. I'm not planning on any of the original characters to come back (but you never know - it's me and I get attached easily!).

                Len slowed the bike to a stop, letting his feet settle on the ground. The grumble of Mick’s bike beside him was loud as the arsonist pulled to a halt beside him. The long line of taillights into the distance caused both of them to frown. There was something going on up the road that was making a long delay. This wasn’t what Len had been hoping for tonight.

He’d taken Mick to an abandoned lot in Lawrence Hills where he knew there was a huge pile of trash built up from the surrounding industrial buildings. No one else knew, but Len had an agreement with some of the surrounding businesses to dump any of their unwanted flammable materials there. Every few months there would be a pile of cardboard boxes, broken wooden pallets and other rubbish the businesses didn’t want to pay to get taken away. And every few months, when Mick was getting antsy, Len would bring him to the lot to let out his latest bout of pyromania in a safe environment. He always brought the Cold Gun with him, just in case anything got out of hand but so far the arrangement had been working well. Tonight had been no different. The pyromania had been quelled for the moment but the joy Mick got from fire lead to another symptom of his condition, a temporary strengthened libido. Right now Mick needed to get laid – not be stuck in a traffic jam.

“Time for a detour,” Mick growled, looking at the cars in front of them with disgust. He flashed Len a quick grin and turned his bike to jump the pavement to avoid the line of vehicles and headed towards the turning to the left. Len rolled his eyes and sighed, joining Mick in his illegal move down the street. He was heading for the Row.

The wide street that served as basically a cargo lane between the docks in Westminster and the industrial zone of Lawrence Hills was officially called Packers Road. Back in the day, when Central City had been a stopping place for vast cattle trains, the road had been home to meatpacking plants and butcheries. These days it was a rundown part of the city that contained a variety of low end industrial buildings, a few shops and some grotty bars. What it was best known for was the night life that came out after the day’s deliveries were done.  It was the easiest place in the city to find a working girl. The birdies lined both sides of the street and a desperate man could find company at any price. Locals commonly called it Crawler’s Row, named for the number of curb crawling cars that could be found from early in the evening. It was far from Len’s favourite place to find company (not that he was looking tonight) but he knew Mick could find what he needed there.

Five minutes later they were in the midst of the street, the whores displaying their wares for all to see and sometimes calling to men in cars to get their attention. Len kept his eyes on the road but he could see Mick looking around with interest.

“Mickey!” a female voice called and Mick instantly stopped his bike to locate the caller, earning a blast of a horn from the car behind them. They both quickly parked their bikes.

“Ruby!” Mick called in reply, climbing off his bike and enveloping the woman in a great bear hug.

In her late thirties Ruby had been working the Row for nearly ten years.  Named for the thick mass of dark red hair that fell past her shoulders, she was tall with a voluptuous curving figure. The life she’d led had prematurely aged her but it hadn’t darkened the bright smile that formed on her full lips.  Mick was an old customer of hers. Len might even consider them friends.

“You looking for company tonight?” she asked, her expression practical and not at all coy. She knew Mick too well to mess around with acts she didn’t need.

“I am,” Mick answered, simply. “You free?”

“For you always, sweetheart,” she replied. “I just need a few minutes, okay. Got a sparrow to fix up.” She glanced over at Len. “Hey Snart.”

“Ruby,” he greeted her with a nod and a brief smile. “Since when do you take on newcomers?”

“I know, I must be getting old. My maternal side is starting to show. But the poor kid just arrived,” she told him. She looked behind her and motioned with her hand.

From the shadows of a nearby building a young girl stepped, walking hesitantly towards them. She stopped just a few steps behind Ruby, looking at them with distrust and fear. Obviously new. She was tall and lean, dressed in a tight mini skirt that barely covered her panties and a tiny crop top that covered barely anything else. She was wearing a pair of scuffed joggers on her feet though, a sign they were all she had to wear.

“This in Ange,” Ruby introduced her, gently taking her arm and giving her an encouraging smile, Ruby drew her forward.

Her nervous eyes were fixed on Mick’s huge size. She couldn’t be more than sixteen. Len shook his head. “Where you from kid?”

“Keystone,” the girl replied, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

“What do you think, Snart?” Ruby asked. “Girl could use a pleasant start. I know you’d be good to her.”

Len huffed. “Not looking for company tonight, Ruby.” And certainly not underage.

There was screeching of tires and blaring of horns, followed by a crashing of metal on metal. All of them turned to look further down the street to see a four car pile-up that was blocking the road in both directions. What was astounding though was that the cars had crashed together in front of what looked like a silver glowing cloud that shifted and twisted in the middle of the street. It had a strange beauty but Len knew something that just opened up in Central City like that could never be a good thing. The street was full of cries of shock and alarm and more cars were building up as the traffic slowed to a standstill.

There was a bright burst of blue lightning that shot in and out of the cloud several times before disappearing. With a silent pop that left the street darker than it was before, the cloud seemed to close in on itself and wink out of existence.  Standing where the cloud had been were three men. Len watched them look around with interest, a tight ball of foreboding forming in his gut. They were all the same height and lean build, their clothes old and worn with many rips and tears. One lifted his face to the sky and let out what could only be described as a howl. In the next few moments the rest had joined him. The combined primitive calls echoed off the surrounding buildings, causing all in the street to stop in terror. Len shivered as a primal fear ran down his spine, telling him to run.

“Mick!” he commanded. “We need to get off the street.”

“On it,” Mick replied, looking just as worried as he felt. Len kept an eye on the three men, who were still calling into the night. There was a bashing sound behind him as Mick tried to break through a padlock and chain over a closed business door.

Len watched in growing horror as the men stopped howling and began to fold in on themselves, collapsing to writhe on the ground. In the glow of the street lights Len watched their bodies elongate and their skin change to a dirty brown mottled with green. Fingers became longer, nails turned to claws and hair lengthened to lanky black strands across their heads. Nostrils widened and mouths broadened and grew thin fangs, eyes turned completely black. The hairs on Len’s neck stood on end as they rose to their now four feet, again letting out a howl, this one far more animalistic than when they were human.

Len pulled the Cold Gun from his hip, the weapon whining to life as he flicked it on. “Hurry up, Mick!”

Then the street was in chaos. The men – creatures – whatever they were now, began attacking anyone stupid enough to still be close by. They leapt over stalled cars with the agility and ease of hunting wolves, taking down a woman and two men in a matter of moments. There were screams and shouts and then everyone was running. Panic and terror filled the air and Len backed up as the creatures closed the distance between them and their next victims.

Mick was swearing as the lock refused to break.

“Mick, this way,” Ruby called, urgently.  She had Ange by the arm and was gesturing for Mick and Len to follow her down a narrow alley beside the building. The two criminals raced after her as she ran with confidence in her stilettoes towards a fire escape stairway.

They were clambering up the stairs, when a snarl split the air near the opening of the alley. Len, who was in the rear, Cold Gun at the ready, turned to confront the creature that was bounding towards him. It moved on four legs now, running down the broken concrete path, sliding to a halt when it saw the gun aimed at it. It growled with deep menace at Len, taking a few steps in slow succession, clearly taking notice of how Len continued to train the weapon on it as it altered course.

“Snart, we’re up,” Mick shouted down to him. He’d reached the roof with the two women. Now Len just had to make it up there without getting killed by this thing. 

He let off a burst of cold in the direction of the creature, hoping to frighten it off but the thing agilely jumped to one side, looking at the patch of ice where it had been standing with disdain and then turning back to Len with another growl. Len kept the weapon pointed towards the creature and made his way up the stairs, walking backwards when he needed to keep the animal in sight. It watched him, following slowly. When it put one foot on the stairs Len iced the stairs in front of him, building a thick wall of ice that blocked the metal steps and made the ones immediately in front slippery. The creature stopped when it saw the barricade, tilting its head to the side as if considering something. Len turned and ran, leaping up the last flights two steps at a time to reach the roof. A quick look over the edge confirmed the creature was still down there. It was pawing at the wall now. Len frowned. It had showed such intelligence a moment ago and now it was scratching at the brick wall like a puppy that didn’t know what to do.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up again. There was something wrong here. With a pointed look up at Len and another growl, the creature launched itself up the wall. Long black claws dug deep into the brickwork. Shit! That’s what it was doing, checking to see the wall was climbable. Just great! He fired the gun down at it but the creature jumped aside, gripping the wall further up and to the left of where it had been. Thing was far too agile and far too quick for Len’s liking.

“Mick,” he called over his shoulder. “A little help.”

“In a second,” Mick cried back, and Len risked a look over his shoulder. Mick was standing in the middle of the roof space with the women cowering behind him. Another of the creatures was standing in front of him, crouched as it prepared to pounce. Mick let off a burst from the Heat Gun and again it just jumped aside, leaping up then forward, over the flames burning the roof material and stopping right in front of Mick, only inches from the arsonist. Len turned and was running towards his friend, screaming to take the monster’s attention from him when there was a burst of air and lightning and the creature was gone, sailing over the edge of the roof and down to the street below.

The Flash stood on the edge of the building looking down at the street for a moment before turning back to Len. He smiled. “Funny seeing you here.” He turned to look at the ladies and frowned. “But then again, maybe not.”

Len turned his back on the hero, putting his attention back into the creature that was about to leap onto the roof from his side. “Tell me you know what these things are,” he demanded.

“Not as yet,” Barry replied, coming to stand beside him. “What did you see?”

“A big silver cloud, some blue lightning and then three guys howling in the street before they turned into those things.”

Barry sighed, his hand going to his ear. “We got more of Zoom’s metas. Harry?”

At that moment the creature leapt over the rooftop far to the right of where it had been, Len swivelling his view and the gun sight towards the thing, even as Barry burst forward and again threw it off the roof by force of pure momentum. There was a loud yelp and a crash from the dumpster below and then nothing.

“You ready to help out?” Barry asked, stepping towards him. Strangely he didn’t seem all that happy to see Len, more angry now than he had when he first arrived.

“I’m ready to stay alive,” Len replied, watching the shadows below where Barry had flung the creature.

“Here then.” Len turned back to the young speedster to see him holding something out. It was one of the earpiece communicators he used. “We’ll be able to co-ordinate better.”

Len grabbed it and stuck it in his ear, immediately hearing Ramon and some other man babbling over the frequency.

“Satellite’s saying we got three. What do they look like?” Ramon was asking.

“Gollum, on steroids,” Len replied, moving to the side of the roof that faced the street, watching the chaos unfold.

“Ew!” Ramon commented. “Oh okay, Snart, that’s…yeah, okay. Harry? You know who?”

“I need more,” came the other male voice, sounding exasperated.

“Three guys, all the same height and build. Looked like brothers,” Len said into the mic. “Changed from human into things on four legs and a hunger for raw meat.”

“Okay, that’s the Munroes,” Harry replied, sounding terrified. “Barry whatever you do, don’t let one of them bite you.”

“What happens then?” Barry asked, worried.

“It’s complicated but they basically drink blood – and in doing so they gain the temporary use of any metahuman abilities they take in.”

“So, they can get my speed?”  Barry demanded, incredulous.

“And your healing abilities as well.”

“For how long?”

“Several hours before the effect wears off.”

“Great! Vampiric werewolves with power sucking abilities. Just what I need. How do I stop them?”

“No one’s ever stopped them before Barry. The Munroes are terrifying, even to other metas on my Earth. I don’t know how Zoom would have persuaded them to join him, they’re basically animals these days.”

What the hell, _his Earth_? Len decided he’d would worry about that later.

“Not that it’s my business, but people are dying down there,” Len snapped. “No suggestions?”

“Um, they have a psychic connection, and they are in fact brothers,” Harry replied, quickly. “If you take down one of them it should draw the others to you.”

 “Okay, that’s a good idea,” Barry said. “If we keep them on us, it’ll make sure everyone else is safe. Cisco co-ordinate with Joe, get him to clear the area once we have their attention.”

“Great, we make ourselves bait,” Len growled, not liking at all where this was going.

“Will the Cold and Heat Guns affect them?” Barry asked then.

“Definitely. As long as you can hit them. They’re fast and agile, and they love to hunt in three dimensions, remember to look up – and down.”

“Yeah, seen that already,” Len griped. “So, who do we want to take out first?”

“Let’s try this guy!” Mick shouted. He was still covering the two women, who were desperately trying to stay behind the arsonist as he fended off one of the Munroes. It was climbing over the side of the building again.

“Ruby,” Len cried, “Back down the fire escape – break a window, you’ll be safer inside.”

The woman nodded and began hauling Ange away, only to stop, a scream tearing from her throat. Len spun around to find another Munroe coming at him. It was bleeding from a large cut on its head and the snarl that split its grotesque features was enough to let Len know it was the one that had followed him up the stairs and it was pissed at being thrown in a dumpster.

“Okay, let’s dance,” Len growled, firing the Cold Gun and holding down the trigger, following the dodging creature with a long line of ice that finally managed to graze one of its shoulders. The animal howled in agony and spun around, retreating from range but not fleeing. It growled at Len, dark eyes glistening with pain as it continued to watch him from a safe distance.

“Ruby, go,” Len told her, keeping the Gun trained on it as the two women made their way cautiously across the now iced rooftop to the stairs. The animal watched them leave with interest, and Len became eerily aware that even though it had transformed into an animal it still retained its human intelligence. Another shiver ran up Len’s spine. This was not going to be good.

Barry had gone back to look down at the street, watching intently. “Harry,” Len heard him through the comms. “It’s – it’s…feeding.” He sounded sick, his voice soft and agonised.

“They take in their nutrients from blood and blood-filled organs, mostly the heart, liver, kidneys,” came the sharp, unemotional reply. “This is good.”

“How is it good?” Barry demanded, now sounding outraged.

“Because the longer it spends with one victim the less time it’ll have to kill more!” Harry snapped back. “This will be your chance to get ahead of them.”

Just then there was a shattering of glass from down the stairs. At least Ruby and the girl were safe out of the way now.

Barry turned and for an instant Len saw the anger and pain burning in the kid’s eyes before he blurred into action again throwing Mick’s assailant back and away from the arsonist. The creature collapsed at the hit, falling stunned to the roof.

“Both of you, get inside,” Barry ground out. His shoulders were set with determination, the kid shaking his arms out in preparation for another burst. Len took no time in grabbing Mick by the jacket and shoving him back down the stairs to the top floor where Ruby had broken the window near the door and had disappeared inside.

Len stopped at the top of the stairs, looking back as the speedster positioned himself between the stairs and the creature that Len had iced. No way he was leaving him here to face two of these things by himself. In fact, what the fuck was he doing?

Striding behind Barry he advanced on the collapsed creature that was groggily trying to get to its feet. He wasted no more time but simply iced its front paws to the roof, satisfied by the howl of pain that it let out as thick layers built up, holding it in place.  The other creature went to go to its aid, but Barry stepped between them and Len came to his side, lowering the Cold Gun at it. The black eyes screwed up in rage and the animal sat back on its haunches and howled again. This sounded different to the last and Len was again struck by some primitive fear that something more complicated was going on that he should be frightened of. Barry too seemed to feel it, his back straightening and his head wiping around to the trapped Munroe that also let out the same howl.

“They’re calling for help,” Barry muttered, taking a step away, so he and Len were now back to back. “Get down stairs now!”

Len kept the gun trained on the monster in front of him. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“No, I’m the one trying to keep you alive so for fuck’s sake, do as you’re told, Cold.” It was snarled out in angry frustration.

Len had a few choice things he could have said but decided against it and began backing towards the stairway, keeping the creatures in sight as he did so. The thin layer of ice he’d laid down was already thawing and he stepped through the puddles of melting water until he was at the top of the stairs. Barry was following him, he too keeping his eye on the creatures, moving at a slower pace. There was a heavy thump and some scrapping from the street side of the building and Len turned an eye to see the third creature pawing its way onto the roof.

Len reached the top of the stairs. “Barry?”

“Go. I’ll catch up once you’re inside,” the kid replied, his back to Len.

Len growled in frustration but leapt down the first flight of stairs until he came to the broken window. Ruby had sensibly knocked all the glass away, so he could climb in without fear of cutting himself. From above and behind he heard the pained animal grunts of the two free creatures go flying again and his chest clenched that he wasn’t still up there to make sure Barry was alright. It was dark inside the building. The only light that filtering in from the street outside. On a top level he would have expected offices but strangely the room looked like some sort of open plan workshop.

“I’m in,” he called over the comms and a second later he was buffeted by a burst of air as Barry stopped beside him.

Len couldn’t help his gaze rake up and down Barry’s body looking for injuries even though he knew in the low light he wouldn’t be able to see anything.

“Over here,” Mick called quietly, the small amber flame of his lighter the only pinpoint of light to give Len direction. His friend was standing beside a large flat work table. Ruby and Ange were squatting not far away, pressed back into the gap between two stacks of boxes.  Ruby held a large wrench and Ange was clutching a long length of pipe.

“Mick, take the windows on that side,” Len told him, jerking his head back towards where they’d entered. “Flash and I’ll take the other side.”

“You think they’ll follow us in here?” Mick asked, pulling the Heat Gun.

“I just iced one of them to the roof. From the look on the others faces, yeah, they’ll be coming for us.”

Mick gave an unhappy growl but said nothing else, going to take up position against a gap between the windows so his silhouette wouldn’t be exposed from the outside.

Len made his way to the other side, leaning against a similar gap, feeling Barry move with him.

“So, you arrived even quicker than usual this evening,” Len said little above a whisper.

“I was in the area on the way back to the Labs. Heard the panic,” Barry answered, standing close to Len but back from the windows.

“Fun night out on patrol. You need to get a social life, Scarlet.”

“I was coming back from a dinner date, in point of fact,” the young man snapped with some of the anger he’d displayed before.

Len paused, half turning to the speedster. What had him so angry this evening.? “Got a new girlfriend?”

“A couple of nice men, actually.” Barry replied with a tight grin.

Len paused again, and then grinned. “Going the threesome, Flash? Not what I expected from you.” He knew that wasn’t Barry’s style but he couldn’t help poking the young speedster a little.

Barry groaned in disgust. “There was no – oh my god, get your mind out of the gutter.”

Len snorted, quietly. “You’re one to talk. What did you think I was doing here?”

“The obvious, obviously.”

Len turned on him then, staring the kid straight in the face. “For a man who deals in physical evidence all day you’re pretty willing to give over to the circumstantial.”

Barry looked taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Mick burned some stuff tonight.”

Barry looked confused. “And?”

“And after he burns stuff he gets anxious, in a different way.”

“So, you were _only here_ for Mick, is that what you’re trying to say?”

Len felt his own anger rising at the kid’s determination to think the worst of him. “Yes, damn it, just for Mick.”

“If you say so,” Barry huffed, as if calling an end to the discussion.

Len sighed. “I believe I told you what I’m attracted to, Scarlet. Do you honestly think that little sparrow ticks any of those boxes?”

Barry paused, glancing over at the terrified teenager, huddled next to Ruby. “I suppose not.”

“Precisely.”

Barry looked at the ground, a hand running across the back of his neck. “Sorry.” It was soft, as if all the anger had suddenly gone out of the kid.

Len huffed. “I hate this place,” he whispered. “These women. It could have been -.”

“It could have been Lisa.”

He glared at Barry for daring to speak it out loud but the speedster was staring at him, sympathy and understanding fairly glowing in his eyes in the low light. Len turned back to the window.

“It would never have been her,” Barry whispered back to him. “She has the most loving big brother in the world. No way she would ever have ended up here.”

Len turned to stare. The kid’s eyes were soft with compassion and pride. He smiled, that bright light that made Len feel he was worthy of it. Bright enough to catch the breath in Len’s throat. Fuck, he so wanted to pull him in and kiss him. To claim back the very breath Barry stole from him, as if he could draw in the optimism and hope the speedster exuded so he could spark it in himself again after all this time. As it was he turned away, watching the shadow of one of the creatures slink along the edge of the building.

“Mick,” he called in a hushed voice. “You got anything?”

“One this side,” Mick called.

“Where’s the other one?” Barry wondered quietly to himself, looking around. He looked up at the ceiling. “You ever see “Aliens”?”

“Of course I’ve seen it,” Len snapped, following Barry’s gaze to the exposed foam boards that separated the ceiling from the air conditioning shafts. “Shit!” he muttered.

Barry gave him a long look.

“Guess I get to be Hicks,” he muttered, pulling one of the chairs over and preparing to get up on it.

As it turned out Len didn’t have to lift the foam boards. At that moment the ceiling in front of them crashed in and the remaining creature dropped to the floor among debris and dust. It was on its paws an instant later, shaking itself and looking around, even as Len fired a blast of cold at it and Mick set the floor beneath it on fire.

It howled in agony, leaping back, crushing on of the work tables behind it. The enclosed space was working against it. It couldn’t leap around as easily in here. But, they also had less space to manoeuvre and more likelihood of hitting each other. Len was about to hit it again when there was a crashing of glass on Mick’s side. Len only risked a quick glance at sound, seeing one of the creatures halfway in through the shattered windows. Mick turned to focus on it, letting rip with a burst of flame from the Heat Gun that saw the creature howl and topple back out the windows burning and screaming in pain. The other had recovered and was crouched ready to pounce.

Len kept the gun on it, ignoring the further shattering of glass that came from the opposite side of the building. There was the fast, sharp click of stilettoes and a number of harsh female grunts and then animal cries of pain. Len felt Barry turn with him to see the Ruby and Ange attacking the third Munroe. It had got stuck trying to leap through a window too small for it and the two women were beating the trapped creature around the head with the wrench and pipe.

“Len!” Barry’s terrified cry reached Len too late.

He wrenched his head around at the last second, raising the Cold Gun too late before the creature was about to land on him. He watched astounded as the creature seemed to stop for a millisecond mid-pounce and then was flung sideways hitting the opposite side of the room with a heavy thump. Barry had fallen into a heap with it, and Len stared, willing his feet to move, holding out the gun already knowing he was too slow.

The creature grabbed Barry, pinning him with one paw and then staring up at Len, as if daring him to come closer. Len’s hands on the Gun tightened and he took an inch forward. The Munroe pointed a claw on its other paw and ripped a long line across Barry’s shoulder. The speedster screamed in agony. Len stopped dead and the monster held its claw in place on Barry’s arm, ready to wound the young man again.

“Shoot it!” Barry cried.

“I’d hit you, Scarlet,” Len told him, knowing that any blast from the Cold Gun would damage the speedster as well.

“It’s the only one left,” Barry shouted, the pain still in his voice. “End it.”

Len’s knuckles were white on the grip of the gun. “Flash, I can’t do that.”

The creature huffed out a stuttering breath and Len could have sworn it was laughing. The claw on Barry’s arm dug in deep, piercing a vein.  Barry screamed again.

“If it bites me we won’t be able to stop it,” Barry ground out, his breath coming in heavy gasps now. “Finish it!”

Len’s jaw clenched. He watched as the creature bared its long fangs at him as it turned its attention back to Barry and began to lower its head. Len fired. The icy blast took the creature full in the side, covering it in a layer of ice. It screamed in pain, trying to leap away but Len just kept firing, covering it in thicker and thicker layers. There was no way the thing was getting away now it had put Len in this position.

There was a small iceberg in place by the time Len finally let go of the trigger. Len grimaced at the sight of Barry, the lower half of his body encased in ice and an expression of agony stretching his features.

Len strode up to him, dropping to his knees before the injured speedster.

“Mick!” Len commanded and the arsonist was there an instant later, the Heat Gun making quick work of the lower section of ice.

Len took hold of Barry’s shoulders and pulled him out from under the frozen monster, the young man again crying out in pain as the wound on his shoulder was pulled.

He put his hand to the commlink in his ear. “Ramon, we need a van.”

“Caitlin and Harry are already on their way. But you need to avoid the cops in the street, so head south one block, we’ll home in on the output from the suit and find you there.”

“Right,” Len moved Barry into a sitting position and took stock of the situation for the first time.

The Munroe that had got stuck in the window was a bloody mess. Ruby had Ange around the waist and was trying to pull her away from the creature as the girl continued to try and beat it with the metal pipe. The kid was crying and panting but still managing to spew foul words at it, spit dripping from her lips as she attempted to keep beating it even though it was clear the thing was at already unconscious, if not dead. Len had seen that behaviour in others before, had even been there himself once. He sighed and gestured to Mick. The arsonist grunted but went and grabbed the girl up, carrying her away from the creature while pulling the pipe from her grasp. It only took a moment for the girl to collapse in a broken heap, crying into Ruby’s arms.

“What happened to the other one?” Len asked, turning his gaze to the shattered and burned wall on Mick’s side of the building.

“Went down in flames!” Mick replied with a vicious smile, coming back to squat next to him. “Only a charred heap left in the alley.”

“Okay, let’s get the hell out of here,” Len replied.

“What do we do with Red?” Mick asked, managing to sound a little concerned for the kid, though his face betrayed nothing.

“I’ll take him one block south,” Len told him. “Someone’s coming for him.”

Mick grunted again but stood up. “I’ll take Ruby, we’ll bring the bikes round there.”

“Good idea,” Len said. “Don’t think we want to come back here for when the cops have finished cleaning up and actually start asking questions.”

Mick nodded and gestured for Ruby to follow him. Ange let her go reluctantly, the girl standing looking completely desolate and lost as she watched them leave.

“Come on,” Len waved a hand at her. “You get to help me carry the Flash to safety.”

Barry groaned as they lifted him up. Len was almost ready to let both of them carry him under the arms but the wound in his shoulder and the puncture in his arm made it too painful, so Len simply swept him up bride style and let Ange lead the way. The girl stopped to pick up the bloodied pipe, as if afraid to be without it now, then opened the door and soon they were heading down the fire escape.

Barry was heavier than he looked but still light enough that Len could carry him without problem. They walked the darkened alley, Ange in front, the girl seeming to take point without fear. Len was becoming more intrigued by her. Clearly, she was frightened but she was controlling it in a way Len hadn’t expected. Although perhaps he should have expected it. She’d had the strength and resolve to run away from home rather than stay and continue suffering whatever life had dealt her.

“It felt good,” Barry murmured suddenly, breaking Len’s train of thought.

“What getting sliced open and then iced?” Len demanded. “Never considered you having a pain kink, Scarlet, though with the whole throwing yourself into danger I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I mean having you at my back tonight,” Barry continued, softly.

His good arm was thrown around Len’s shoulder and his gloved hand was clutching at the back of his other shoulder as if he could somehow keep the pain at bay. His head was pressed into Len’s neck, the breath of his words warm on Len’s skin. His other hand was resting lightly to Len’s chest, as if that was the most comfortable place for it and damn if Len didn’t find the speedster’s heat seeping into his heart far too comfortable.

“Don’t get used to it,” Len replied, trying to keep his tone stern.

Barry huffed out a weak laugh. “No intention of,” he replied. “It’s still nice when it happens though.”

Ange stopped in front on them. She was at the end of the alley and seemed reluctant to step out into the street beyond.

“Do one more thing for me?” Barry asked.

“Done my good deeds for today.” The wide eyes Barry turned on him were sad and pained and Len couldn’t fight them. “What?”

“Save her,” he replied, pointing to Ange’s back with his chin.

Len sighed. “You can’t save everyone, Scarlet.”

“But you can try,” Barry said with a weak smile that still managed to convey the agony he was in.

“What do you want me to do?” Len demanded, quietly. “Take her out for a burger, give her some advice about how life doesn’t have to be this crap?”

Barry grinned. “Take her to Kathleen Morgan. She runs -.”

“I know who Kath Morgan is,” Len replied. “She’s not Kath’s type.”

“No, but Kath owes Barry Allen,” he told him. “She’ll take her in if you ask in his name.”

Len smirked. “Since when were you one to keep markers – and call them in?”

Len felt the heat radiate off Barry as the kid blushed even under the cowl. “It’s not like that.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is.” Len sighed. “A little late to be turning up at Kath’s door.”

“She’s always there,” Barry replied, the hand on his chest tightened, clutching at his shirt. “Please, Snart.”

“Alright,” Len replied but couldn’t give up that easily. “But you will owe me for this one – and I do call in my markers.”

Strangely, Barry gave him a bright smile, as if he was looking forward to repaying the debt. “Of course.”

Len stepped passed Ange out into the street. It was eerily calm and silent here after the noise and chaos of the battle beforehand. Len could see why Ange was hesitant to expose herself out here. It was only a few more minutes before the STAR Labs van appeared down the street, the long beam of its headlights announcing its arrival. It stopped before them and the door slid open.

Caitlin Snow was stepping out of the van a moment later, going over Barry with an experienced eye.

“Get him in the van,” she said with a resigned sigh.

Len stepped up into the van, laying Barry out on a gurney that had been placed. “Why do I get the impression you’re in trouble?”

Barry grinned, even as his hand slid from around Len’s shoulder with obvious reluctance. “She’ll lecture me when we get back. It’s how she shows she cares.”

Len chuckled. “Get better, Barry.”

“Sooner than you think,” the kid replied with another bright smile.

Len stepped back and exited the van.

“Thank you for staying after the fight,” Caitlin said, even as she looked at the injured speedster laid out inside. “If you hadn’t been there he would probably have tried to run back to the Labs and that would only have made things worse.”

Len just nodded not quite knowing how to respond to that easy thanks.

“Do you two need a lift anywhere?” she asked then.

He shook his head. “Mick’s bringing the bikes. Just get Scarlet back indoors before he hurts himself further.”

She managed to favour him with a rueful smile and with one more brief nod she was climbing back inside and closing the door.

The van was just pulling away as the growl of the bikes reached his ears. It had just disappeared from view as Mick and Ruby pulled the bikes to a halt in front of them.

Ruby quickly dismounted and pulled off the helmet, coming to see if Ange was still alright. The girl gave her a positive smile and nod, even as Ruby wrapped her up in her arms.

“Ruby,” Mick said then, as if they hadn’t just faced terrifying monsters. “We still on for this evening?”

Ruby blinked a few times. “Ah, um, I don’t know,” she gave him a confused look. “I really think I should stay with Ange after what happened.”

“I’ll look after her,” Len told her, coming up to them. “I promised Flash I wouldn’t let her spend the night on the street.”

“Snart, after what she’s just seen -.”

“I’m not hiring her, Ruby,” Len assured her. “Just taking her somewhere she can sleep in peace tonight.”

Ruby stared at him as if weighing the truth of his words but seemed to find she could believe him as she nodded and turned back to Mick.

“Alright, sweetheart,” she said, sounding uncertain. “If you’re still up for it. I don’t know if I’ll be very attentive now though.”

Mick smiled. “I’ll pay you the all-night fee. Even buy you breakfast in the morning.”

Ruby’s lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. “Very well. I think I can do that.”

She took the spare helmet Mick handed her and was soon sliding on the back of his bike. Len shook his head, knowing Mick would be good to Ruby tonight and tomorrow as well. Mick loved tough women and Ruby had clearly shown how resilient she was. He’d probably even give her a huge tip as well.

He grabbed up the spare helmet he had stowed in his bike and handed it to the girl, who was watching nervously where Ruby and Mick had disappeared.

“Come on,” he said, holding it out. “We have somewhere to be.”

“Where’s that?” she demanded like she was still suspicious.

“The Penny Morgan Women’s Hostel,” he told her simply and got on the bike, gesturing for her to slide into the seat behind him.

She looked confused but did as requested and Len kicked the bike into motion. The night had cooled off as the hour got later and Len thought maybe he should have given the girl the spare leather jacket he carried as well. It was too late now though, and it was only a five minute ride to quiet street of Westminster that held the house.

Penelope Morgan had died at the hands of an abusive husband over twenty years ago now. Her younger sister Kathleen had been so devastated that her sister had stayed with the man because she’d had nowhere else to go that she’d started the Hostel as a refuge for abused women fleeing their partners. Kathleen had become a tireless worker for the rights of abused women, becoming something of a local celebrity as she campaigned for changes to laws and raised money for her own charity. She not only housed the women but paid their legal bills and made sure they got a fresh start when it was time.

The three storey house was old but nicely kept up and looked like any other family home. There was nothing to designate it as a hostel other that the simple brass plaque next to the front door. The front porch light was still on even though it was now nearly 10pm. There was a buzzer which Len pressed and he waited with Ange for it to be answered.

“How long you been in Central?” he asked.

“A week,” she answered.

“Only a week,” he raised an incredulous eyebrow. “And you’re already fighting metahumans with the Flash. Bodes well for your future here.”

The girl blushed at the praise and a genuine smile graced her lips for a second. “Not really what I was intending when I came here.”

“What were you intending?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Don’t know. Just to be somewhere else.”

“I’d ask what was so bad about home but from the way you kept beating on that creature it was pretty clear.”

Now the blushed turned ashamed and Ange strode forward and pushed the buzzer again, hard and for a a good five seconds.

“Who were you beating, your dad?”

She shook her head. “Dad died when I was ten. Mom remarried last year.”

“Ah, stepdad,” Len said understanding.

“No,” Ange shook her head, expression becoming distressed. “He’s great, as loving as dad was. It was his boss.”

“A manager is no reason to run away. You ever tell anyone?”

“If I had then there would have been all sorts of fall out. Including dad losing his job or abandoning his job so the guy wouldn’t have contact with me anymore. He loves his job. He does so much good I couldn’t take that away from him.”

Len chuckled and Ange looked up at him in shocked anger. “Yeah, you’re definitely hero material.”

She looked confused.

“Taking everyone else’s responsibilities on yourself? Fits the mould perfectly. You’re a kid for fuck’s sake, other people are supposed to take care of you. Don’t be so fast to take on others burdens.”

There was the metallic clicking of several locks being pulled back and the door opened. Ange shrank back behind Len as if fearful of what would appear. Kathleen Morgan stood before them. A severe looking woman in her late forties, her greying chestnut hair was pulled back from her face and fell down her back in a long thick braid. She was dressed in her nightdress, covered with her dressing gown of dark green. Her dark brown eyes gazed at Len with disapproval. Yeah, he could understand why men might not be welcome here.

“Are you looking for someone?”  she demanded, sounding for all the world like if he said _yes_ she would skewer him.

“Dropping off,” he replied with a tight smile and stood aside to reveal the girl behind him.

Kathleen looked her up and down with an experienced eye. “There’s a refuge over in Mound Views that deals with runaways,” she replied dismissively. “I’ll give you their details.”

She leaned back to reach around the door where she must have kept such information ready for situations just like this but Len was having none of it. He wasn’t about to drive all the way to Mound Views at this time of night. He pushed the door open all the way and stepped into the entryway of the house. Kathleen looked shocked but didn’t back away at his obvious aggressive move. Len smiled, woman must deal with angry and aggressive partners all the time.

“Al,” she called over her shoulder and from a side door stepped one of the biggest men he’d ever seen. He was dressed in jeans and a hoodie that stretched across the vast expanse of his chest as if the zipper was about to break. He had short cropped black hair against his dark brown skin. He was easily six foot four maybe more and was hefting a baseball bat like he knew how to use it for more than just sports.

Before more could happen, Ange stepped between them, holding up the bloodied metal pipe she’d refused to part with.

“Don’t even think about it,” she threatened.

Len huffed in disgust and pulled the pipe from her hands. _Yes, let’s just try and take on a man four times our size!_ “Definitely hero material,” he snorted at her before turning his attention back to Kathleen. “Before this gets out of hand I’d just like to say I’m here on behalf of a mutual friend.”

The woman crossed her arms. “And who would that be?”

“Barry Allen,” he replied, simply.

The affect was astounding. Her whole body relaxed, her face softening to something close to affectionate. “You should have lead with that.” She turned to her body guard. “It’s okay, Al. I’ll look after them.”

The man nodded and returned back into the room he’d just come from.

Kathleen sighed and turned back to Ange. “Right, first, some clothes. Come with me,” she gestured for the girl to follow her. She looked up at Len uncertain but he gave her a reassuring nod. As Ange moved passed Len made to turn and leave. “And you,” Kathleen said, pointing to the door immediately to his left. “In the sitting room.”

Len was about to argue but the look on the woman’s face told him not to. What she could want from him he didn’t know. He was more than ready to call an end to this evening. He sat on the well worn but still comfortable lounge, leaning back and closing his eyes. Letting a long deep breath, he thought back over the evening, finally able to smile now the adrenalin was wearing off. He hadn’t even been looking for Barry tonight but there the kid was, at his heroic finest, using himself (and Len) as bait to make sure others were safe. And they’d managed to pull it off. Just. Even if Len had to ice him.

That had hurt, Barry begging Len to hurt him in order to save the day. It had turned his chest to ice, seeing Barry bleeding and incapacitated. But afterwards, that beautiful boy in his arms, resting against him so comfortably, like he wanted to stay there. That delicious warmth seeping into his chest from where Barry rested his hand had been pleasant to say the least. And had he been jealous? The speedster had been that bit too angry until Len had confirmed he wasn’t there to pick up a hooker. Oh, that would be so satisfying. But again, it could just be Barry’s moral centre outraged at the idea of anyone picking up a prostitute. Still, it bore more testing.

“So how do you know Barry?” Kathleen’s voice broke him out of his reverie.

She was entering the room, carrying a tray with a teapot and several cups. There was also a plate of sandwiches.

“I don’t know Barry personally, but we have a mutual acquaintance,” Len told her. “The Flash.”

“Ah,” Kathleen said as she sat down beside him. “Doesn’t surprise me Barry and he would know each other.”

“How do you know Barry?” he asked, taking the cup of tea she offered even though he had no desire for it. It was always good to know more about His hero.

“Three years ago one of my girls was killed, murdered right here in the house. It was made to look like suicide and the police were happy to call it that. But Barry wouldn’t let it go and eventually found the evidence that convicted her estranged husband. He went above and beyond to find justice for the woman and her kids.”

Of course there were kids involved. Len couldn’t imagine Barry turning his back on anyone whose mom had just been murdered.

“What will happen to Ange?” he asked.

“How well do you know her?”

“We met about two hours ago, during a little run in with some not so friendly metahumans. I’ll let her tell you the details when she’s ready. But the Flash was there, took pity on the kid, didn’t want her on the Row. I told him I’d take care of it.”

Kathleen nodded. “I don’t usually take in runaways. But she isn’t the first one in twenty years. I’ll get her story, see what we can do for her.”

“I know the Flash will be grateful,” Len told her, knowing the kid genuinely would be happy Ange was no longer on the Row.

The door opened again and Ange reappeared. She was dressed in a pair of frayed flannelette pyjamas with a worn brown dressing gown over the top. Seriously, shabby second-hand clothes were all Morgan had to offer her? Her skanky makeup had been removed and she was only in a pair of socks now. She suddenly looked much younger than the sixteen Len had taken her for before.

She sat on the floor before the coffee table in front of the lounge and began to eat the sandwiches Kathleen pushed towards her. Len watched the kid eat like a starving speedster and wondered when her last decent meal had been.

“I better be going,” he said then, standing up and the women both rose with him.

Kathleen held out a hand and he shook it. “Thank you.”

“Not me you need to thank, I just drove her here.”

Kathleen smiled and there was something knowing in her expression that Len wasn’t sure he liked.

He turned to girl. “Stay out of trouble, Ange.”

She smiled but nodded. “It’s Louise, actually.”

Len’s heart gave a jump but he covered his surprise with a nod of his own. “Well then, stay out of trouble, Louise.” He turned away from them but turned back after a moment. “But keep the pipe. Just in case. I’m sure the guy in the next room can give you some pointers.”

Ange – Louise gave him a bright smile. “Thank you.”

He nodded and left, closing the door behind him. As he stood on the porch breathing heavily the sound of the locks being closed snapped behind him.

He made his way down the front steps, out into the darkness of the street. Louise. It shouldn’t affect him but for some strange reason it did. He was suddenly aware of the tightening in his chest as he started up the bike, a tightness that he’d long ago learned to associate with his protective side. He usually only felt it when something happened to Lisa or Mick. He was beginning to feel it more often with Barry. And he’d just had a sudden twinge of it for the girl with his mother’s name. He was getting dangerously close to becoming invested in the kid and that was the last thing he needed. She was with good people now. They’d look after her. He kicked the bike into motion and headed back to the safehouse. He’d had enough of everything for the night. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to lay back in bed and _not_ think about runaways or metahumans or icing the Flash. What he really wanted was to relive Barry’s hand on his chest and the warm glow his possible jealousy had instilled. And if tomorrow Kathleen Morgan received a large anonymous donation of women’s clothing, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Iris Wedding is turning out to be about the third worst day of Barry's life. Who could possibly make him feel better about things?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Iris and Eddie's Wedding day. Happiness overflows for everybody, except maybe Barry.

                Barry stared at the breakfast buffet of the restaurant of the hotel with distaste. It was a high end hotel, the food looked and smelled great but despite the loud growls in his stomach, Barry didn’t relish eating like he normally would. The bridal party had spent the night before the wedding at the hotel and it was now the big day. Grabbing a couple of pieces of toast and some spreads he made his way to the table where Joe was sitting. Joe smiled as he looked up at his approach but his smile fell when he saw just how little Barry had on his plate.

                “Is that it?” he demanded, pointing at Barry’s near empty plate.

                Barry shrugged. “Not feeling it this morning.”

                Joe sat back in his chair. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

                “Nothing,” Barry replied. “Just not hungry.”

                Joe huffed incredulously. “All-you-can eat breakfast and Barry Allen isn’t hungry? Now I know there’s definitely something wrong. Spill.”

                Barry sighed. “Just what you’d expect.”

                Joe gave him a sympathetic look. “I know I’ve asked like ten times already but are you _really_ sure you’re going to be okay today?”

                Barry nodded, looking at the plate. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ve had plenty of time to get a handle on it.”

                “She’d understand if you couldn’t.”

                If she was going to understand she would never have asked him in the first place. “I’ll be fine Joe. Just don’t expect me to be the life of the party today.”

                Joe nodded and went back to his eggs.

                Barry swiped the butter across the toast, feeling his shoulder twinge at the movement.

                “You okay?” Joe asked, looking concerned as Barry winced.

                “Just still a little tender after the fight the other night,” he told him. “I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

                Joe shook his head. “I still can’t get my head around those things. I mean people who can do weird stuff, _that_ I’m finally getting used too. But guys who can completely transform into blood sucking monsters – that’s still the stuff of fantasy.”

                “Well not anymore,” Barry replied with a sigh.

               Everything seemed to have moved too fast that night, even for him. If he’d had more time he would have come up with a better strategy, but the enclosed space of the building had limited his options and Snart being in immediate danger had negated any attempt he would have made to capture the creatures. He’d had no control over Rory burning the one, and no choice but to order Snart to ice the other. As it was, only the one that the women had beaten had survived, even though when it had finally transformed back into a man it had severe head trauma and multiple broken bones. It was currently in CCH being treated in the ICU. If it lived it was going to be sent to Iron Heights meta wing. It felt like a failure to him and was one of the many things he didn’t want to think about right now.

                “How are you doing?” Barry asked Joe then, taking a bite of toast and trying to distract himself from other thoughts. “Father of the bride.”

                “Have to admit, getting a bit nervous,” Joe told him. “Still not entirely sure how I’m going to handle giving away my baby girl.”

                “Well at least you know he’s a good guy.”

                Joe sighed. “Yeah, still a cop though.”

                Barry frowned. “I thought you’d got over that a long time ago?” He was realising that in trying to distance himself from Iris this last month he’d also kept Joe at arms-length.

                “I don’t think I’ll ever get over it,” Joe admitted. “He is great, best partner I’ve had in a long time but there’s still that possibility.”

                “What possibility?”

                “That I’ll have to be the one to tell Iris Eddie was killed in the line of duty, and that I was there to see it happen. She says she’d never blame me but it still worries me.”

                Barry sat back and stared at Joe for a long time as the man went back to his food. “Joe, Iris has had to live with that possibility her whole life. She’s always known it could be you. She’s knows it could be Eddie. She also knows you’re both going to look after each other no matter what. Especially now you _both_ have her waiting. Did you ever baulk at asking Francine to marry you?”

                Joe looked slightly thrown by the question. “Yeah, I did. Spent about two months flipping back and forth about what was best.”

                “But you still asked her.”

                “The things you do when you’re young and stupid and crazy in love.” Joe replied with a smile.

                “And did she have any misgivings, about marrying a cop?”

                Joe shook his head. “Not a one. Even though I spent like half an hour reminding her of all the bad stuff like the late shifts and the running down leads at bad times and the danger -.” Joe smiled gently at the memory. “She just told me if those had been a problem she would have never started going out with me in the first place.”

                “Sounds a lot like Iris,” Barry said with a smile.

                Joe stared at him with narrowed eyes. “I see what you’re doing there.” He pointed a finger at his foster son. “You’re telling me to respect her decision cause she ain’t going into this blind.”

                “Exactly,” Barry said with a smile.

                Joe sighed again and gave Barry a grumpy stare. “Well, at least I get to tell you to eat more. Last thing we need is you fainting at the altar from – what is it?”

                “Hypoglycaemia,” Barry told him, still grinning. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

                Joe finished his food and sat back again. “Alright, well make sure you get enough. I got to go practice my speech a bit more. See you this afternoon.”

                 “Later, Joe,” Barry told him with a wave.

               After he left, Barry made his way back to the buffet, filling a plate with a variety of different things, and making sure he ate it all, even though eating was still the last thing on his mind.

               He just had to concentrate on the fact that he was happy for Iris, even though there was no joy for himself in this. She was still the closest thing he was ever going to get to a sister. He did love her like that too. He’d always want her to be happy. If that came from Eddie rather than himself then so be it.

 

               By early afternoon Barry was in his hotel room. He was in the midst of getting ready, just like the rest of the bridal party. The door to his room was open. Eddie had already been in twice to ask him about silly little things, clearly just acting out of nerves. Even Joe had been in to ask if his suit was sitting just right and if his shoes were shiny enough. Even though Barry had assured him they were fine, he’d gone off to polish them again. Barry had decided to simply leave the door open if there were going to be so many interruptions.

               Barry adjusted his suit, pulling at the jacket with nervousness of his own. Even though he’d had three different fitting sessions with the tailor, he still felt not quite right, as if the suit didn’t fit him the way it was supposed to.

                “You look amazing,” a voice said behind him.

                He turned to find Reggie Thawne standing in the doorway, looking him up and down in the way he had at the bachelor party.  Barry blushed before he could stop himself, looking down at the floor. For some reason he’d become more aware and more effected by the attention of men in the last few weeks. He wasn’t sure where that came from.

                Reggie chuckled and came towards him, reaching out to straighten the bow tie. “There’s no need to be so nervous. All eyes will be on them, not you.”

                Barry huffed, a combination of amusement and disgust. “All eyes?”

                Reggie smiled, the same happy smile he’d favoured Barry with during the bachelor party. “Well, those that don’t need to be looking for someone else.” A hand slid down his chest in a seeming effort to smooth his jacket but Barry knew what it really was. “You disappeared at the casino.”

                Barry gave a nervous nod. “I, uh, I had a friend call me, they had a bit of an emotional crisis, needed me to come help them. I just left without another thought.” He hoped the lie sounded convincing.

                “I understand, friends are special in our lives,” Reggie told him. Reaching out to adjust the smallest piece of Barry’s hair out of place. “They deserve our attention.”

                Barry watched him with interest for a long moment as Reggie continued to look him over. “Reggie -?”

                The young man looked up at him in interest. His eyes were very blue, but somehow not the shade Barry had been thinking to see.

                “I’m not into men,” Barry told him, seriously.

                Reggie’s smile broadened. “Maybe you should be.”

                “Reggie I -.”

                “Not for my sake,” the young man told him with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Although that would be nice – but that’s not what I’m saying.”

                Barry favoured him with a confused look.

                “Take your jacket off,” he said.

                “What?!”

                “I’m not making a move, just take the jacket off.”

                Barry did as he was asked and Reggie grabbed his shoulders, turning him towards the full length mirror that was on the inside of the wardrobe door. He stood very close behind Barry. “You were scrawny as a kid, yeah?  I can tell by the lean shape.”

                “Yeah, I guess,” Barry replied still confused by where this was going. He’d always been scrawny.  In truth there wasn’t another word Barry had to describe himself.

                “Yeah, me too. But the scrawniness of childhood gives way to the leanness of adulthood.” He wrapped his arms around Barry’s shoulders, putting his fingers together at the base of his neck.  “This -.” He drew his fingers across Barry’s neck and collar bones and across his shoulders. “This is the fully realised male shape. Broad shoulders,” his fingers ran down Barry’s chest, his abdomen to his pelvis.  “Down to a narrow waist and hips.”

                Barry looked at the shape Reggie was drawing across his form in the mirror, wondering what the young man was saying.

                “And this -.” Reggie’s hands quested lightly over Barry’s flat abdomen. “- is the sort of thing every man wants so he can show it off – in the same way a woman wants a flat stomach.”

                “What are you saying?” Barry asked, thoroughly confused at where this conversation was going.

                “I’m saying Barry, that you have a very attractive body, to a man or woman. I saw that the moment I met you. You also have a lovely face with one of the brightest smiles I’ve ever seen. But I’ve also seen how you are with Iris and with Eddie. You’re an open soul, full of love and hope. There’s no one, man or woman who wouldn’t be made better by you in their life, regardless of the fact you’re sexy as hell.”

                “So -?”

                Reggie huffed in amusement. “So, don’t limit yourself to who you might love.”

                “Like you?” Barry demanded, thinking the young man was still making a play.

                Reggie laughed again. “Yeah, I like to play the field, but not because I’m afraid of commitment. I just want to be sure I don’t miss the right person.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “There are so many people in the world, Barry. Seven billion when you think about it in numbers. What’s the likelihood of finding the absolute right person for you in all those people?”

                Barry frowned. Thinking about it like that did make it seem slim to find the one person for you. But at the same time, he knew his father had found her. He knew from his first eleven years that his parents had been crazy in love and perfect for each other. He’d thought he’d found the right one in Iris but had he when she clearly hadn’t seen the same in him?

                “If you want to find that person, you need to be open to looking,” Reggie told him. “I don’t latch on to anyone because focussing on one person is a sure way to miss what’s right in front of you. Eddie’s a perfect example.”

                “Really?”

                “He wasn’t that different to me, you know. Lots of short term, not so deep relationships. But as soon as he met Iris, everyone else went away. He knew deep down, she was the one for him. He committed himself without a second thought.” There was a slightly sad, wistful expression on Reggie’s face then. “That’s what I hope for one day.”

                Barry stared at the young man in the mirror, his expression suddenly not so carefree as it had been.

                “You strike me as someone who hasn’t considered all the options. The one person for you might be a woman or a man. Don’t limit yourself like I did for years.”

                There was an exasperated huff from down the hall and some cursing.

                Reggie rolled his eyes. “Looks like brother dear needs help with his bowtie. See you in the ballroom.”

                Barry gave him a quick smile and nod before turning back to the mirror. Is that what he’d been doing all these years by pining after Iris? Limiting his options and maybe missing out on a girl who was even better for him? But surely if she’d come along he would have known.  Surely, he would have felt something for her in a way that turned his head and his love away from Iris. He sighed then, there was no point in thinking like this, especially not today. He pulled his jacket back on and headed back to find Iris and Linda. It was nearly time to start the show.

               

               The Grand Ballroom of Central Grove Parklands Wedding and Function Centre was a massive steel and glass structure with a ceiling that rose two storeys above ground level, supporting a coloured glass dome that cast a rainbow of sunlight into the room below. Its highly polished, complex patterned, parquetry floor reflected that light back up, making the whole room glow with warmth. The far end of the room had been set up for the wedding, where large flat paned windows gave a fantastic view of the three acres of landscaped gardens outside. A low dais had been erected for the celebrant to conduct the ceremony and the rows of seats on either side of the aisle were currently full of guests, talking quietly as they waited for Iris to arrive.

               Barry watched from his place to the left of the dais (thankfully Iris had agreed that he wouldn’t have to walk down the aisle with Linda) and looked over the crowd. He picked out Jay Garrick easily enough, the six-foot four ex-speedster towering over the people around him. He was dressed in a dark suit that Caitlin had helped him pick out, looking more the hero without his powers than Barry felt he himself had ever been able to achieve, even in the Flash suit. Beside him Caitlin was looking radiant in a low-cut gown of deepest blue that was covered in a gauzy layer that sparkled silver and white in the bright afternoon light streaming through the surrounding windows.

               He had to smile at Cisco who was handsome in an all-black suit with black shirt and tie. His long hair had been let flow as usual and he was looking dark and dramatic, completely different to his usual light-hearted casual t-shirts. What caught Barry’s breath though was the woman beside him. Lisa Snart had poured her long frame into a slinky dress of bright red. It had no sleeves and draped across the high neckline. As Barry watched she turned halfway to look at something at the other end of the hall, revealing the gown had virtually no back. Her earrings were small, but she wore two wide gold cuffs on her upper arms which Barry was sure were real. She was looking even taller than usual, pointing to her probably wearing incredibly high heels. Her makeup was subtle apart from her lips that matched her dress and Barry could see that already some of the congregation were whispering and staring at the beautiful woman in red. Barry had no problem with the smug smile that was gracing Cisco’s face.

               In the third row, Henry Allen was seated, in quiet conversation with a couple of police officers. They didn’t look at all uncomfortable talking with the acquitted murderer and Barry was pleased his father didn’t seem to be feeling out of place today. He felt a twinge of sadness then that Harry hadn’t been able to come. Iris had asked him out of courtesy, feeling the man could use the celebration but he had declined, claiming his face wouldn’t be welcome among the other guests, which Barry had to agree with. He truly felt sorry for the Earth-Two scientist to be stuck in STAR Labs the whole time.

               On the other side of the dais, fidgeting nervously, was Eddie. He looked very handsome in the dark tux with the red vest and bowtie. Beside him Reggie was speaking quietly in his ear, probably trying to keep him calm. Barry gave him a knowing smile and their gazes met for a moment, Eddie looking embarrassed and happy at the same time.

               The entrance music started and the guests quickly quietened down, all heads turning to the back of the room, as the bridesmaid appeared. Linda Park looked gorgeous in the floor length strapless red gown, her hair piled high on her head, with long wisps curling down behind her ears. She walked the aisle with slow steps in time to the music. She lowered her head slightly, a soft blush dusting her cheeks, looking coy and demure in a way not at all like the tough as nails sports reporter Barry had briefly dated.

               Then Joe appeared at the end of the aisle, his arm linked with Iris. Iris had gone with a plain, elegant strapless satin dress that flowed with her shape and had a short train trailing off the back. Around her neck was a heavy gold necklace that had been borrowed from Eddie’s mother, and her hair flowed loose, with just one side pulled back by a golden clip studded with clear stones. Barry’s breath stopped as she and Joe began the slow march towards the celebrant. He’d never seen her so beautiful. Her smile was radiant. She looked like a dream, a dream he would never be able to make real. With a sharp intake of breath he realised he was probably staring at her the way Eddie was, and that was the last thing everyone at the wedding should see. He tore his eyes from her and instead looked at the groom, who was gazing at his future wife with the soft wide eyes and slightly parted lips of a man besotted with his love. Exactly as it should be. Barry let himself be happy for him. Eddie was a great guy, he deserved a woman as amazing as Iris. Especially after what he’d done to defeat Reverse Flash, being willing to sacrifice his life like that. He really was the hero Iris deserved in her life. He felt himself smiling as Joe handed Iris over to stand beside Eddie. They looked beautiful together. Yeah, this was a good thing.

 

               The photographs had been taken, the meal was complete, the speeches were over, the cake had been cut, and now it was time to party! Just that partying was the furthest from Barry’s mind. There were lots of cops at the wedding, so Barry had no shortage of people he knew and could have a conversation with, but he really wasn’t interested in talking to a whole lot of people this evening. All he had to do was look at Iris’ glowing features and his gut twisted. It wasn’t that he felt sad at it not being him she loved, it was that he had no one in his life now he’d let Patty go and the reasons he’d done that still held true. He couldn’t think of a woman out there he could let in to his crazy vigilante life that wouldn’t be in danger, that wouldn’t in some way be compromised by their contact with him. He was trying very hard to not think about the fact that keeping other people safe might mean he’d be lonely the rest of his life. If there was one time he really wished he could get drunk it was tonight. But then this was probably the worst time to think about getting drunk, he might do or say something he’d regret, in front of all his family and friends.

               He sat, leaning back in his chair at the bridal table, watching Iris and Eddie shuffle back and forth on the dancefloor while holding each other close. He had to smile a little as Joe walked up and tapped Eddie on the shoulder, cutting in on his son-in-law. Joe had a glow about him almost as radiant as Iris tonight. Despite his previous misgivings, the father of the bride was a happy man. He said something to make Iris laugh and the two of them hugged tight, joy written all over their faces. Linda had asked Wally to dance and even Eddie was still on the floor, turning slowly with Lisa Snart of all people. Barry was amazed to see him talking and smiling at the criminal’s sister. She really had brought her best behaviour today. Barry watched the Family West happy and enjoying themselves…and suddenly felt completely on the outer.

               He got up and wandered aimlessly among the crowd, hoping to find someone he knew so he could at least look like he was having a good time. There were so many of Eddie’s relatives he had trouble picking out anyone he knew. He finally found Cisco at the bar, finishing a glass of champagne.

               “Dude,” Cisco said, grinning at him. “Let Eddie and Iris know they give good wedding!”

               Barry laughed. “I will let them know you’re having a good time. How’s Lisa doing?”

               “Man, I tell you, she’s been amazing all day! Charming, graceful, everything a guy could ask for in a date.”

               “Not to mention insanely hot in that dress,” Barry added.

               Cisco scratched his ear and pretended to look uncomprehending. “I hadn’t noticed.”

               Barry huffed another laugh. “Well if I were you I’d be careful, ‘cause I think everyone else has.”

               “Yeah?” Cisco suddenly sounded hopeful everyone had noticed he had the sexiest girl at the dance.

               “Do you want a drink?” Cisco asked him then as if it were his round and not an open bar.

               Barry smiled. Cisco could cheer him up just by being. “Nah, you know it doesn’t work on me.”

               “I might have something for that.”

               He turned to find Caitlin behind him, her arm linked through Jay’s. God, they looked beautiful together. Barry was again struck by how lucky Caitlin was to have found someone clearly so right for her, a second time.

               She dipped into her clutch purse and pulled out a small vial of clear liquid, holding it out to him. “Latest version. I put some time into the project knowing the wedding was coming up. Hopefully this time I got it.”

               Barry took the vial with a smile but instead of drinking it he put it in his pocket. “Thanks Cait, I’ll try it later.”

               She gave him an understanding smile. “Of course.”

               The music changed, a more upbeat number and Caitlin’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I love this one.”

               “Well then,” Jay said with a smile. “Let’s dance.” He gave Barry and Cisco a grin and raised eyebrows as he led her away to the dancefloor.

               “Speaking of dancing, I better go grab Lisa – before she decides to steal the groom.”

               Barry grinned and let him go with a small wave, silently feeling abandoned. He sighed, looking around the room. Through the crowd he could see his father, talking animatedly to someone he couldn’t see. Well, he did want to spend more time with his dad, he might as well do it here. As he made his way over to him though, Henry moved off, his hand in the small of some woman’s back. A woman Barry had never seen before. She had to be one of Eddie’s relatives. He followed them at a distance and saw they went to the dancefloor like so many others.

               Barry watched from the sidelines as his friends and family danced and laughed and smiled. David and Rob Singh, slow shuffled out of time to the music, totally engrossed in each other, the Captain’s face alight with a softness Barry had only ever seen that once at the bachelor party. Rob looked the same and the man leant up and kissed his husband gently, the Captain tightening his arms around his husband with comfortable ease. Lisa was clearly holding back a laugh at Cisco’s latest crazy dance moves and Jay and Caitlin were moving in time to the music in a simple turn about that let them talk with smiles and laughter. And his father – his father was trying to keep up with the woman he was dancing with, basically standing still while she enthusiastically danced around him. He was all smiles though and when he pulled her back in his hand rested…on her arse?!

               Barry’s brain ground to a halt. Finally, he took a deep breath. His father had been in prison for fourteen years. He’d been living in a cabin the in woods like a hermit since then. His father was allowed to find some companionship after all that time. He watched the woman lean in and kiss Henry on the lips quickly. Oh god, even his father had more chance of getting laid tonight than Barry did! That was it, it was all he could take. Turning from the dancefloor he made his way through the milling guests and away from everyone else’s happiness.

 

               Barry slipped out the front door of the venue and around the side, letting the cool night air flow over him after the stuffiness of the reception inside.  He followed the steps down to the formal garden. Finding himself in the rotunda, he climbed the couple of steps and sat on the bench that ran around the inside.  The night was beautiful. Fresh, clear, cool, the fairy lights that were strung throughout gave it a magical atmosphere.  It would have been gorgeous even for a night wedding here.

               With a sigh he took the vial from his pocket, wondering if this time Caitlin had finally got the formula right and he could get drunk. It tasted horrible, bitter and sour at the same time, leaving a ghastly aftertaste.  He shivered at the taste and at the concoction flowing into his bloodstream as his heightened metabolism rushed it into his system.

               “Drugs aren’t the answer to anything, kid,” Snart’s signature drawl came out of the dark, startling Barry.

               “What the -?” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and immediately regretting it as his head swam with dizziness.

               Leonard Snart was leaning against an upright of the rotunda, one foot on the top step.  He was dressed in a dark three-piece suit, probably navy blue if Barry knew him at all, though it was impossible to tell in the low light.

               “What are you doing here?” he demanded, sitting down again before he swayed.  Yeah, Caitlin had done something significant this time.

               “Heard Lisa was Cisco’s plus one, thought I’d make sure she was okay.  All these cops and do-gooders, you never can tell what might happen.”

               “You crashed Iris’ wedding?”

               “Certainly not,” Snart replied. “I haven’t pretended to have an invite. I didn’t try to sit down for the meal, though the duck did look good.” He bent down behind him and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two flutes, coming to sit next to Barry.

               He handed Barry the flutes and began unwinding the foil from the bottle.

               Barry huffed.  “And what are you doing now?”

               “Looking after a friend,” Snart replied, easing out the cork with a soft pop, making sure to capture the fizz in the glasses Barry held.  “Mazel tov.” He clinked the glasses together.

               Barry chuckled and took a drink, surprised that he felt an even greater buzz. “Woah.” He shook his head in surprise.

               “What?”  Snart asked, looking both curious and concerned.

               “Oh, Caitlin’s been working on a way for me to get drunk – hence the vial.  Seems to be working this time,” he took another sip of the champagne. “Maybe too well,” he continued, as he became more lightheaded.

               “You’re telling me the greatest scientific minds in Central City spend their days working out how to get the Flash drunk?” Snart demanded.

               “It’s a side project,” he shrugged, and then giggled in spite of himself. “So, you stole the champagne?”

               Snart opened his mouth to reply.

               “No, wait, hang on,” Barry said then, his hands flailing a bit.  “Did you call me a _friend_?”

               Snart stared at him a moment.  “Yes Barry, I did.”

               Barry grinned and threw an arm around Snart’s shoulder. “Really?”

               “We’ve slept in the same bed, healed each other’s wounds and defeated metas together.  I think ‘friends’ is the appropriate word.”

               Barry couldn’t keep from smiling as he leaned towards Snart.  “Knew we’d get there eventually.”

               Snart was looking more concerned.  “You feeling alright?”

               Barry jumped up, spinning in a circle.  “I haven’t felt like this since – well since that one spring break I was talked into going on my last year of college.  That was a fun week. Felt like shit for days afterwards but still a good time.  Last time I was really drunk – before now.”

               “Uh huh,” Snart said, eyeing Barry with something close to suspicion.  “So, Snow’s little vial did this?”

               Barry grinned with a nod, starting to sway to the music that was filtering from inside. He picked up the flute and downed the last of the alcohol.  “But I think the champagne is helping.  Whatever she did it’s adding to the effect. God, I hate being in the bridal party.  I don’t even have a date to dance with.” He spun around again, his feet doing some complicated steps before he slowed.

               “Thought that’s what bridesmaids are for,” Snart told him.

               Barry grimaced.  “Not my type. Well, Linda is - but been there, done that.”

               Snart smiled slightly. “The ladies all seemed to think you were their type.”

               Barry stopped and looked at him.  “Really?”

               “They all had eyes on you Barry, even Linda Park,” he replied. “If you had a girlfriend she’d be madly jealous right now.”

               Barry sniffed.  “You’re just saying that.” No need to add that he didn’t have a girlfriend because it was too hard for the Flash keep a relationship going with all the craziness his life involved. It made him think of his conversation with Reggie earlier for some reason and he frowned, looking at his empty glass.

               “It’s the tux,” Snart told him, looking him up and down in a way that made Barry at once embarrassed and pleased.  “You look great tonight.”

               “Never seen you dressed up,” he said then, watching Snart closely. He had the glass in one hand but was leaning back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, completely at ease in Barry’s company.  “Suit looks good.”

               Snart dropped his chin and gave Barry a coy look.  “Had it made special,” he said, fluttering his eyelids.

               Barry laughed. He poured himself another glass of champagne, drinking half in one go.  He shivered as the buzz ran through him again.  “Oh, that’s good!”

               “You might want to slow down there,” Snart told him.

               “Why?  It’s a wedding.  And I’m the Man of Honour,” Barry told him emphatically and then collapsed down beside him.  “Is that really as pathetic as it sounds? Because if it is I’m definitely going to finish that bottle.”

               Snart sighed and stood up, placing his glass on the bench.  He held out his hand.  “You want someone to dance with?  Here.”

               Barry stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before slowly reaching out.  Snart’s hands were large, his fingers long and thin but calloused and rough. Barry found himself being pulled in close, Snart putting his hand on Barry’s waist, forcing Barry’s hand onto his shoulder.

               “Why do you get to lead?”  Barry demanded, already beginning to sway.

               “Because I know what I’m doing,” Snart replied, beginning a simple waltz.

               “Okay, you gotta tell me how you know this,” Barry said, after a minute.  “I honestly never thought Captain Cold would dance.”

               “I certainly don’t like it,” Snart replied, looking uncomfortable.

               “Why?  Everything’s better with music,” Barry told him with a grin.

               Snart rolled his eyes.  “Lisa took lessons, part of her obsession with ice skating.  She thought it would improve her choreography.  But the guys at her dance school were either too advanced, too pathetic or too ‘hands on’ for her.”

               “So, she asked you to go with her?”  Barry said. “That’s so sweet.  I mean, I knew you’d do anything for her but really, ballroom dancing?  That’s hardcore big brother right there.”

Snart turned him under his arm and pulled him back in, drawing him closer so that their chests were pressed together.  It wasn’t what Barry was used to, the hard press of muscle as opposed to soft breasts against him.  It felt odd, but somehow right. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of the woman inside who’d won his heart without knowing it and then broken it the same way. He found himself leaning into Snart, their cheeks lightly pressed together as they stopped moving in a dance but simply swaying to the music.

               Barry started to sing softly along with the music filtering from the reception. It was Adele’s version of ‘Make You Feel My Love’ and Barry closed his eyes, letting the music, the gentle movement and Snart’s presence soothe his heavy heart, wanting, just for a while, to forget this was the end of a significant period in his life.

_When the rain is blowing in your face_

_And the whole world is on your case I_

_could offer you a warm embrace_

_To make you feel my love_

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear_

_And there is no one there to dry your tears_

_I could hold you for a million years_

_To make you feel my love_

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet_

_But I will never do you wrong I_

_'ve known it from the moment that we met_

_No doubt in my mind where you belong_

_I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue I_

_'d go crawling down the avenue_

_No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do_

_To make you feel my love_

_The storms are raging on the rolling sea_

_And on the highway of regret_

_The winds of change are blowing wild and free_

_You ain't seen nothing like me yet_

_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_

_There's nothing that I wouldn't do_

_Go to the ends of the Earth for you_

_To make you feel my love_

_To make ……_

               His voice started to crack with emotion towards the end and he trailed off.

               “You have a _voice_ , Barry,” Snart murmured close to his ear, sounding disbelieving. “No thought to serenade the happy couple?”

               Barry swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. “Thought about it. But every time I went to practice I just got sad.  Didn’t think bursting into tears in front of the crowd would match the mood.”

               Snart’s hand in his back tightened, pressing him closer and Barry let him, resting his chin on Snart’s shoulder. The cool breeze swirled around them, making Barry aware just how warm Snart was against him. Caitlin’s vial was wearing off, leaving him far more aware of what he was doing but he didn’t want to leave where he was right now.  He let go of Leonard’s hand and wrapped both arms around his neck, continuing to sway in a slow circle for the duration of the next song.  He was pleased when Leonard’s arms slid around his waist, the criminal resting his hands in the small of Barry’s back. It was a firmer, stronger grip than he was used too but it also felt comforting, making him sigh in contentment.

               “This is nice,” Barry murmured, resting his head on Leonard’s shoulder, his face pressed into his neck. Leonard’s cologne was light and fresh, filling Barry’s senses, focusing his attention on the man who had his arms around him. It was as if someone had noticed him tonight. Everyone else was focused anywhere other than the fact his cracked heart was finally breaking.  “I could do this forever.”

               Leonard’s body stiffened and Barry lifted his head in concern.  “Leonard?”

               “Bartholomew?” he replied, his voice was soft but his expression was tense, his hands moved from Barry’s back to his waist as if he was preparing to push Barry away.

               “Len, what is it?”

               “It’s just -,” Len started as if he didn’t quite know what to say.  Then his face set in a calm practical expression.  “There are certain things you don’t take advantage of when someone is drunk.”

               Barry smiled.  “Caitlin’s concoction wore off about five minutes ago. Are you thinking about taking advantage of me?” His grin got larger as Len’s eyes widened.

               “Wow, Captain Cold surprised, that’s a new one,” he said.

               Len’s expression grew hard.  “Barry, you don’t want to play with me on this.”

               “I’m not playing,” Barry informed him, seriously.  “You’re the one who asked to dance.  You’re the one who pulled me in close.  I’m the one saying I’m alright with it. So, are _you_ playing? ‘Cause I have to say after the shit day I’ve had it’d be really cruel of you to -.”

               Barry never finished as Len pulled him in again, kissing him.  Though his arms tightened around Barry like he threatened to squeeze him to death his lips were cool, gentle and pliable, tasting of champagne.  Barry responded without hesitation, tilting his head so Len could get better access to him.  Barry had always assumed that Len would be as much a control freak over sex as he was with everything else, but he quickly found out differently.

               Len kissed slow and soft, not assuming control or letting Barry take it, just being one with him in that moment.  Barry tightened one arm around Len’s neck, his other hand stroking across Len’s buzz cut as their lips melded together.  Barry had never known this, never considered it, but right now with Len, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He hummed contentedly into Len’s mouth as their lips slid across each other, soft, moist and increasingly hot. He suddenly wanted more, deepening the kiss, rising passion making him run his tongue over Len’s bottom lip, asking to be let in.

               Len pulled back, breaking their connection, but pressing his forehead to Barry’s as they stood silent for a moment.

               “What is it?” he asked, quietly.

               Len’s breath was coming faster than usual. “It’s, it’s enough for now.”

               Barry lifted his head.  “But -.”

               Len shook his head, looking confused. “Enough! I…I just need to -.” He broke away from Barry nearly running down the few short steps to stand outside the rotunda. He was facing away from Barry but half turned back to him. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Barry.”  He disappeared into the shadows of the garden, the darkness swallowing him in moments.

               Barry wanted to speed after him, ask him what was going on but couldn’t seem to move his feet. He stood, considering his own confusion. Barry had never considered himself anything but straight but now? Holy shit, he’d kissed Leonard Snart!  He’d just kissed Captain Cold! And he’d damn well liked it! Liked the feel of his strength and form under his fingers, liked the warmth of his body against him.

               He sat down, frowning.  Did he?  Did he really?  Or was he just feeling vulnerable and on some level wanting to stick it to Iris after she’d never noticed him? He put his head in his hands, too many thoughts suddenly going around in his head.  He didn’t know how long he sat there, unable to confirm or deny anything he felt in that moment when he finally sat up. It was getting colder as the night progressed and he was beginning to shiver without Len to warm him. He looked back to the reception hall hearing the laughter and music and felt altogether out of place. 

               He ran, speeding away from his family and friends, from his almost sister and his now almost brother-in-law.  He ran and ran, all the way back to Central City proper and around the city outskirts several times before he finally ended up back at the West’s door, his shoes smoking and his tux dishevelled and dirty.  He let himself in, ignoring the growl of his stomach and headed straight for his room. He sent a quick text to Cisco and Joe, letting them know he was alright but had bailed early and then turned his phone off.  There was nothing else to do.  Iris and Eddie were away on honeymoon tomorrow and he was back at work same as ever. Life would go on. He felt tears in his eyes as he collapsed into bed.  Life’d never be the same again though, not now that Iris was beyond his reach and especially now he’d kissed Leonard Snart.

 

               Cisco Ramon lay in the hotel bed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering how it was possible for a geek like him to have access to such a beautiful, funny and intelligent woman and at the same time be completely unable to close the deal. He’d tried every romantic effort, every funny line he could come up with, all the gifts both purchased and made. Had ashamedly resorted to large amounts of alcohol (he’d learned quickly Lisa could easily drink him under the table). He’d even offered an upgrade to the Gold Gun. And though Lisa accepted them all with appropriate delight and affection she still staunchly refused to stay the night with him. Part of him had long ago told the other part she was using him, keeping him as a convenient place holder until something better came along, but he stubbornly refused to listen. Because when they were together everything went so well.  She genuinely liked his company and often looked reluctant to leave but she always did.

               The sun was coming up, filtering through the half open curtains of the room. Cisco sighed and rolled over towards her. When he’d asked her to the wedding, letting her know up front that it was out of town and would require an overnight stay she’d agreed wholeheartedly, sounding happy he’d asked her and pleased they’d get to spend some extended time together. She’d looked beautiful yesterday and had hung off him, never leaving his side, except once to dance with Eddie. She’d been charming and witty, even the cops who’d been suspicious of her presence to start with had warmed to her in no time.

               They’d returned to the hotel room at the end of the evening, where Cisco had earlier apologised for the single large bed. The hotel was fully booked with the other wedding guests and he couldn’t get anything else. She’d shrugged and said she didn’t mind sharing and he thought that this had to be it, this was the weekend their relationship moved to the next level. How wrong he was. She had politely and sweetly rejected his several clumsy advances and they’d ended up simply sleeping beside each other. At least she slept, Cisco had lain awake most of the night wondering what the hell was going on and fantasising about what they really should have been doing at that point.

               She was still sound asleep, her face framed by large soft waves. The peaceful expression on her face did things to Cisco, made him want to reach out and touch it, stroke the clear smooth skin just to make sure she was really there. Instead he sighed and rolled away, heading for the shower. There was no point in lingering over it anymore, it clearly wasn’t happening. When he returned later, dressed for the return journey to Central she was sitting on the bed, already dressed, her hair and makeup impeccable as they had been yesterday.

               He tried not to look at her, not think about how good she looked in skin tight jeans and a figure hugging t-shirt. He moved around the room, repacking his bag and settling his suit back in the bag he’d carried it in.

               “Cisco, sweetie,” she asked, her tone as flirtatious as ever. “Is everything okay?”

               “Yeah,” he replied, still not looking at her. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

               There was silence at that for a long time and he busied himself in the bathroom, retrieving his toiletries.

               When he came back she was looking troubled, her eyes on the floor, lines creasing her forehead. “Have I done something wrong?”

               Cisco smiled incredulously. “Been asking myself the same question – for a couple of months now actually.”

               She frowned at the floor. “Yeah, I guess you probably have.”

               “So, do I get some sort of an answer here, some sort of an explanation?  Cause it’s confusing the hell out of me and frankly getting tired of the whole not knowing what’s going on.” He’d wanted to sound reasonable but the anger came out in his tone and Lisa looked up at him in shock.

               She sighed and patted the bed beside her. “Come sit, sweetie.”

               He reluctantly sat, waiting for her to shift and close the distance so their legs touched as she usually did but she stayed where she was. “You remember the day in your workshop, when I told you that Lenny practically raised me?”

               “Yeah,” he replied, not knowing where this topic had come from.

               “Well it wasn’t practically, it was literally,” she told him. “As soon as he was old enough he got me away from Lewis, dropped out of high school and became my carer.  Lenny’s not just been big brother, he’s been mom and dad to me as well.”

               “Okay, get that. What’s that got to do with this?”  he asked, pointing a finger between the two of them.

               “It’s always just been the two of us,” she said. “But ever since Flash and you guys got him off for Lewis’ murder Lenny’s been different.  I can’t put my finger on it but he’s troubled over something.”

               Cisco watched her closely, she was still frowning, concern pinching her features in a way that made him want to reach out and smooth the lines away with a gentle finger.

               “He took me and Mick to Coast City for a few weeks just afterwards and then came back again way too quick. He won’t say why. But there’s always the chance he’ll want to pack up and move again with little notice.” She reached out to take his hand. “He’s all I’ve got Cisco, I’ve got to be there for him.”

               “I get that, Lisa,” he told, squeezing gently.

               “Don’t think I don’t want to do this,” she gestured to the bed. “I do, really. But I don’t want this thing going too far only to have to run out on you. I don’t want to let you get in too deep and hurt you.”

               Cisco smiled sadly. “Too late for that.”

               She looked up at him then, something agonised in her expression before she quickly smoothed it over. She sat up straight then, looking him in the eye. “Do you know I’ve never had a real boyfriend?”

               “Excuse me!?” he asked, incredulous.

               “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had guys I’ve gone out with, slept with, the whole thing, but I’ve never let myself get that close. It was all only ever just fun with no attachment.” Her expression became serious and she looked at him with wide eyes. “I’m getting attached to you, Cisco. The more attached I get, the more it’ll hurt both of us if I have to leave.”

               “Lisa, don’t you think Snart would be fine with you living your own life?”

               “I’m sure he would. But like I told you, he’s always protected me, I have to protect him when he needs it. Whatever is bothering him, he’s not finding a solution to it anytime soon. Do you understand that I can’t be _here_ -.” She lifted their held hands up. “- until he gets himself together again?”

               “I guess I can take that,” Cisco answered, slowly.  “You’re asking me to wait.”

               “I’m asking you to be content with what we have until I’m in a position to give you more and I don’t know how long that will take. And I know that’s a shit thing to ask, given you’ve been patient with me this long.”

               Cisco considered what she was saying. Of course, he knew Snart was going to be a problem in this relationship at some stage. He’d just thought it would have more to do with him threatening to freeze off intimate parts of Cisco’s anatomy if he hurt his sister, rather than Snart’s wellbeing coming before Lisa’s own happiness. He clearly only had two choices here, keep seeing Lisa as they currently were, or let her go now. In terms of his own feelings Cisco knew he was never going to be able to simply let Lisa go, so he had only the first option available to him. Until a third option suddenly presented itself.

               “Do you want me to help you find out what’s wrong?” he asked then.

               She shook her head. “It’s not something you can look up on your computers, sweetie. It’s something inside him that’s different. I just have to get him to open up about it, which you know is going to take time.”

               “Yeah, he’s not the most forthcoming person.”

               “Please tell me you understand?”  she demanded then, her voice quavering slightly. Her eyes were wide and glistening and Cisco was torn between believing the expression and fearing it was some sort of ploy from a woman he knew was so devious at times.

               Finally he sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to say no to her. He might tell her to go now but she’d call him in a week and he’d drop everything to see her again, because spending time with her was just that good. He’d just have to accept things like this until she was ready to move forward, or until he found out exactly what Snart’s problem was. He pulled her in to kiss her gently, letting her know he was staying.  She quickly pushed him back on the bed and they made out for half an hour before finally heading to a late breakfast, Cisco thinking that all in all it could have been a better weekend but it could also have been a lot worse.

 

               The next week was hell for Barry.  The memory of that kiss haunted his waking hours and his sleeping ones. Although the sleeping wasn’t so bad, dreams of Len’s lips on his were far more desirable than the nightmares of Zoom that had been plaguing him these last few weeks.  But during the day he just hadn’t been able to focus.  Time and again he’d found himself daydreaming about Len’s arms firmly round his waist, making him feel safer than he’d ever felt before. The velvety feel of Len’s short cut hair under his fingers made his hands twitch. The smell of his aftershave lingered in Barry’s senses and the young man found himself wondering what it would taste like to kiss it off his neck.  Sometimes his thoughts went even further, to where Barry would catch himself blushing and his jeans straining at what he wanted to do with Len.

               He found himself, sometimes for hours at a time, staring into space and trying to convince himself one way or another how he felt about what had happened, flip flopping between feelings and what it meant for his life and his sexuality.

               He concluded that no, it wasn’t just that he’d been feeling vulnerable in that moment.  He’d known Len long enough now, and they’d been through enough together that he knew he felt something for the thief. He’d always told himself seeing Len again was about helping him become a better person, about helping him out of the dark and fostering that good Barry saw him in. 

               That was part of it but as he’d got to know him Barry realised he actually liked spending time with Len. During battle he was a sarcastic smart-ass full of puns and one-liners.  During quiet times, as when he’d watched over Barry as he healed, Len was steady and peaceful, a solid rock Barry could rest against. He began to realise he liked to see Len smile, those genuine open smiles that were so rare for a man who hid his emotions behind a knowing smirk. He liked those cool blue eyes, especially when they looked at him with a warmth and softness the man usually lacked. He’d offered Barry comfort when he needed it, without any hesitation or demand for anything in return. Barry realised now the reason he’d been happy for Len to stay after the fight in the alley was because he’d wanted to spend the night with Len, even before he’d understood why. He’d been happy to see Len that night on the rooftop, because he’d been looking forward to spending more time with him. He blushed as he also realised he’d been stupidly jealous of a teenage girl, thinking maybe she’d been taking Len’s attention when Barry really wanted it to be him Len spent his time with. With that realisation came the sudden understanding that he liked Leonard Snart – beyond friendship.

               And god, what the fuck did it mean for the rest of his life?  Len might now be a free man with no criminal record (thanks to Barry’s efforts to delete it all) but all his family and friends knew exactly who and what he was. Hell, several of them had been on the receiving end of his worst behaviour. How was he ever to develop a relationship with the man when everyone would be against it? Cisco and Caitlin both had reasons to hate him and Joe and Eddie would never accept him. Relationship? Where had that come from? It was one kiss and Barry was already leaping to a relationship? For all he knew Len had no intention of – it could all have been a game to him.

               There was absolutely no one he could talk to about with this.  At one time he might have spoken to Iris but she was currently on the other side of the world. By the time Friday afternoon had finally come to a slow grinding end after what seemed like a week that lasted a month, Barry was sitting at his desk, staring at a file he had read eight times and still had no idea what he was looking at.

               “Mr. Allen!”  Captain Singh’s sharp voice broke the silence, bringing Barry back to reality with a jump.

               “Captain,” he startled, shifting in his chair and beginning to shuffle papers. “I, uh, I was just finishing that -.”

               “Save it Mr. Allen,” he said, coming to stand beside Barry’s desk. “I’ve been in the doorway for at least five minutes and you’ve been staring into space for all of them.”

               Barry deflated. “Yes, sir.”

               “I have cases backing up down there and a CSI who is clearly on another planet,” Singh continued.  “What the hell is going on, Allen? Even for you the tardiness has been astounding this week.”

               “Yes, sir,” he agreed, knowing the man was right.  “I just – there’s this thing -.”

               Singh favoured him with an incredulous expression and a sceptical raised eyebrow.

               Barry stopped, a furious blush colouring his cheeks before a sudden thought occurred to him.  “Actually, Captain I could use your help.”

               The man’s expression didn’t change.

               “It’s a personal thing, like a really, really personal thing and I have no one I can talk to about it because, well there’s no one I know who knows anything about it, except maybe you…and I hadn’t even considered you because well, you’re Captain and it’d be awkward-.”

               “I doubt it could be more awkward than it is at this moment, Allen,” the man snapped at his babbling. “Spit it out.”

               “Well, when was it exactly, and like how did you work out you were, you know, like…gay,” Barry finished lamely, grimacing at the last.  He’d staunchly been avoiding that word all week, even in his mind.

               Singh stared at him for a full five seconds before pulling up another of the desk chairs and taking a seat. “What happened?”  he asked, his voice suddenly softer and kinder than Barry had ever heard it.

               “I may have had a moment where I kissed someone,” Barry admitted, looking at the floor, running a hand across the back of his neck.  “It’s the first time it’s ever happened, and before it did I’d never even considered the possibility.  And I mean it was good, it was _really_ good, but I have no idea -.”

               “Were you drunk?”

               Barry huffed.  “No, I was definitely not drunk.”

               “Was it someone you’d only just met?”

               “No, I’ve known this person for a while now, and well, we didn’t get on so well to start with.” That much was true.  “But we’re friends now and then this thing just sort of happened after a while of getting closer.”

               “Are you sure they are what you think?”

               Barry considered quickly.  Even if he hadn’t had Len’s declaration that he was interested in men he was still sure of it. He might have been the one talking but Len was the one who initiated the kiss.  He nodded.

               “Do you want more with this person?”

               After the night time dreams and daytime fantasies Barry had been having this week there was no doubt about that. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

               “Our sexuality isn’t always clearly defined, Barry,” Singh told him, gently.  “I thought I was straight all through high school. It wasn’t until college when a couple of men asked me out that I considered the possibility. I dated several different people in college, men and women.  Then I met my future husband and it suddenly made no difference.  All I knew was that I loved him and I wanted to build a life together.  Male or female it’s the emotion that’s the key. If that’s real then their gender shouldn’t have any bearing.”

               Barry nodded, letting that sink in for a long time.  He looked up suddenly.  “Thank you.”

               Singh gave him a gentle smile and squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.  Then he stood up, his face hardening again.  “I want this backlog cleared by mid next week,” he declared, waving at Barry’s desk.

               Barry smiled.  “Yeah, of course.”

               “But for now, get out of here.  It’s Friday.”

               “Thanks Captain!” Barry felt a bit lighter.  “Oh, and Captain!”

               The man stopped at the door.  “Can you not mention this to Joe, or anyone,” he said, again running a nervous hand across the back of his neck. “It’s not like I think he’d be weird about it, but I want to get it straight in my head before I start telling other people.”

               Singh gave him a sympathetic smile.  “Of course, Barry.”

               Barry went back to his work, feeling a little better. From the corner of his eye he saw the Captain stop and look back at him, his expression thoughtful. Barry looked up at him questioningly but the man just shrugged and shook his head, disappearing back downstairs. Barry wasn’t sure what that meant but he went back to closing down his workspace for the day.

               Half an hour later Barry strolled out of the precinct, still thinking about what Singh had said. The sun was setting, the shadows long and the cool breeze of night starting to spring up. Peak hour traffic was in full flow and Barry sighed, knowing it was going to slow his progress home for the evening. He’d told Joe he was going to be home for dinner tonight before he went out patrol as the Flash. God knew how that was going to go. He was so distracted by thoughts of Len he was going to be poor company, and Joe would know there was something wrong. He walked down the street, mingling with the crowds, making his way to the alley a few blocks away. It was his regular take off point, from where he was sure of not being seen before he went into superspeed.

               He wandered down the dirty space between the buildings, preparing to run off when something large and sharp pierced his neck. Grunting in pain he put his hand to the mark and pulled the large dart away, looking at it in confusion. The world started to spin, and Barry knew he’d been tranquilised with something strong. Instantly he started to vibrate at high speed, burning off the drug just as he had in his fight with Oliver so long ago. As he felt the effects begin to wear off there were more needle points jabbing at him, these in the middle of his back. A moment later a huge wave of electricity burst through his body, causing him to convulse and collapse to the ground.  He struggled to look around at who might be doing this to him but just as he rolled over to see a face blurred by shaking vision there was a hard impact to the side of his head and the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Len finds out what happened to Barry and tries to get him back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone thinks Barry is Leonard's boyfriend and has kidnapped him to get to the thief. Len's not about let them get away that - boyfriend or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know its been nearly three weeks since my last update so to say sorry for keeping you all in suspense I'm posting Chapters 7 & 8 at the same time. At least that way you won't have to wait to see how the rescue goes.

                Joe West was sitting at his dining room table, looking at his watch. Barry should have been home an hour ago. It wasn’t like his son to not call, even if he had decided to blow off dinner and look after Flash business.  He’d already sent two texts and left one voice message but there had been no reply. He’d hoped to take the time while Iris and Eddie were on honeymoon and Wally was busy with a couple of major assignments to spend some quality time with Barry. He was just about to phone STAR Labs when there was a knock at the door.

                Not expecting anyone and knowing that even if Barry had forgotten his key he would have just phased through the door he went to open it, confused.

                “What the hell, Snart?” he demanded, shocked to find the criminal standing on his doorstep.

                “Evening detective,” he replied, pushing inside before Joe could think to stop him. He made his way down the steps into the lounge room before Joe had even closed the door.

                “What do you think you’re doing here, Snart?” Joe demanded, mentally working out exactly how long it would take him to retrieve his sidearm from the lock box in the hall closet he stowed it in when at home.

                Snart turned to face him quickly in the dramatic way Joe was used to seeing. What he wasn’t used to seeing was the clear distress on Snart’s face. “I’m afraid there has been a misunderstanding, detective.”

                Joe watched him closely. There was something wrong here. Something wrong with Snart. The knowing smirk was gone, replaced by something uncertain. He was usually a bastion of calm resolve when not in an actual fight but he was pacing back and forth in front of Joe’s fireplace with obvious agitation. A cold ball started to form in the pit of Joe’s stomach. There had to be a bad reason Snart was in his house and he was beginning to think maybe it had something to do with why Barry was late.

                “Spill it, Snart. Now!”

                “I met Barry the night of Eddie’s bachelor party,” Snart began, throwing Joe off balance.

                “What?”

                “We had a pleasant chat, left the casino and walked down the street together.” The words were quick, clipped, giving the briefest of details. Joe knew there had to be more but he wasn’t going to push right now. “Some old friends of mine found us. Decided that they wanted to teach me a lesson.”

                Joe huffed. “They’re not the only ones.”

                Snart favoured him with a quick grin. “Barry and I fought them off but not before I’d suffered a few minor wounds.”

                “Barry never said anything about this,” Joe told him, wondering at the truth of it.

                “Wouldn’t expect him to,” Snart replied, quickly. “You don’t like him associating with me and in this instance, you might be correct.”

                “How so?” Joe demanded, the ball in his stomach getting larger and heavier.

                “It would seem my attackers – who I left alive as per my deal with the Flash – assumed Barry was more important to me than he is.”

                “Meaning what?”  Joe asked, angry the man wasn’t getting to the point.

                Snart pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly bringing up a text message with an image attached.

                _$200K by 5pm tomorrow or your boyfriend will be in small pieces_.

                And there was Barry, his face swollen and covered in bruises, his hair awry, his eyes dull and half closed, mouth hanging open slackly. His hands were held above his head in strange large handcuffs that had glowing blue lines on them.

                Snart simply turned his head to the blow that Joe landed on his jaw, taking it like he’d expected it and wasn’t the least bit fazed. Joe’s rage wasn’t going to stand for that and he punched the thief again, rewarded with a harsh grunt but still no movement.  The third strike was met with a matched arm, Snart’s hand wrapping around his fist and stopping it mid-punch.

                “As much as I may deserve the beating you want to give me, I think we’d be better served by looking for Barry, don’t you?” Snart told him, his face serious and worried, his hand gripping Joe’s fist with a strength that belied his lean frame.

                Joe forced himself to relax, dropping his hand. Snart let it go as he did, his expression intense, as if waiting for Joe to try and take him by surprise again. Joe turned his attention back to the picture. Something about the cuffs was off. They looked like -.

                “We need to get to STAR Labs,” he said then.  “I’ll call the precinct on the way.”

                Joe found himself shoved back against the wall, Snart’s forearm across his throat. There was no pressure yet but it wouldn’t take much for the man to change that.

                “I didn’t come to you as a cop, Joe. I came to you as a father who wants to find his son.” The man’s expression had become even harder. “Police involved will only complicate matters, especially when Barry’s identity as the Flash is involved.”

                So somehow Snart knew what those cuffs meant.  Knew that whoever his captors were, they knew Barry was the Flash and had taken measures to make sure he wouldn’t get away.

                “What do you expect Snart?”  Joe asked, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

                Snart released him. “I have a deal with Barry to not kill anyone. I expect you to make sure I keep that deal.”

                Joe watched him closely, the man looked pained, somehow torn. Snart was asking him to make sure he didn’t kill anyone. Why? Because right now he was at a point he was going to kill – for Barry? Joe had no idea where that had come from. Sure, Barry had continued to have faith in Snart all this time but had the thief appreciated it more than he let on? Enough that he was willing to kill to keep Barry safe? Even if it meant breaking such an important understanding? What the hell was going on?

                “Okay,” he said, quietly. “STAR Labs, I’ll meet you there.”

                Snart nodded and turned away, heading out the door without another word. He was gone before Joe had the chance to even move. He quickly called Cisco, letting him know he and Snart were on the way and to get ready to try and find Barry. Then he raced out to his car. For a moment he paused in the driveway, wondering if calling the station would be helpful after all but decided Snart was right.  There was no way he could involve anyone at the station without the dangerous possibility of Barry’s identity being exposed. Joe then pulled out, heading out to the Labs, his mind still churning over what it meant that Snart thought that much of Barry.

 

                Len leaned back on the Cortex workstation bench. It had been a long night of stories and accusations and information gathering with the end result that the sun had risen a few hours ago to a complete lack of progress. He crossed his arms, trying to hide the fact his hands were clenched tight as he looked at the picture of Barry on the large monitor on the other side of the room. His stomach was tied in a knot. His was breathing slow and deep, attempting to focus his mind on the task. He’d already called Mick and Lisa and they were out gathering what information they could about where Wilks’ crew could be found. As yet they’d had no luck.

                “There’s nothing in the photo,” Ramon said then. “I’m not finding any identifying background or reflections.”

                “Yeah, well, Wilks is no genius but he isn’t a complete idiot,” Len told them. “He’ll make sure there isn’t a way to find him.”

“What about the cuffs?” Joe asked then.

“Yeah, thinking about those,” Ramon replied thoughtfully, his tone worried enough that Len turned to look at him.

“They’re mine,” he went on, pointing at the screen. “I sent Jay down to the cages to see if any are missing but they were all there yesterday.”

“Where else would they get them?”  Len demanded then.

“The only other place you’d find them is CCPD. They have pairs to go with the Boot.”

Garrick returned to the Cortex a few moments later. “All four pairs of cuffs are still there. They certainly didn’t come from here.”

Joe was pulling out his phone. “I’ll call the precinct, make sure theirs are all accounted for.” He went into the other room.

“How would they even know they needed them?”  Snow asked then. Len could see her trying to maintain her professional cool but he could see the strain around her eyes as she observed the injuries on her friend. “They’d have to know Barry’s the Flash or at the very least at metahuman.”

He’d been thinking about how Wilks would have found out. “There’s a possibility he was seen outside the casino,” Len told them.

“Barry doesn’t take off in public like that,” Snow said. “And he wouldn’t have been foolish enough to do so in front of somewhere like a casino that has security cameras everywhere.”

“No, but he was in the alley with me and Wilks’ men,” Len said. “I got a couple of knife wounds. Kid sped me away before I had a chance to finish cleaning up the scene.”

“You mean killing your attackers?” Jay asked, looking appalled.

Len smirked at him. “At one time, maybe. No, I would have made sure they were at least unconscious. Barry got me out before I had that chance. The alley was pitch black.”

“So, if one of them was still awake they would have seen Barry’s lightning when he sped off,” Ramon said thinking it through.

“Exactly,” Len told them with a shake of his head. “Kid needs to be more thorough.”

Snow looked at Len then, her expression confused. “Why do they think Barry’s your boyfriend?”

“Been wondering that myself,” Len said. It was the one point in this that was confusing him. “Only ever see the kid when circumstances bring us together and then it’s as the Flash, not Barry.”

“And if they know Barry’s the Flash then surely they know you’re not even friends, let alone lovers.” Jay put in, looking confused too. Jay had been brought up to speed on Len’s background with the Flash at Christmas.

“Why don’t you just give them what they want?” Harry asked then, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them.

“Not my first choice. Wilks will just come back for more,” Len told him. “But I can, if it comes to that.”

“Dude, you got two hundred thousand just sitting around?” Ramon asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” he said with a shrug, not wanting to go into details.

Len’s phone dinged and he pulled the device from his back pocket. It was a text with a video attached this time. He excused himself and left the Cortex, going out into the hall to view it.

The camera looked like it had something covering the lens. However, Len wasn’t confused for a second by who was speaking. The voice was Stan Blackmore. The blonde from the alley was in his forties and had a long history of violence, something Snart had been on the receiving end of more than once over the years.

“Snart,” he said. “Greetings from our mutual friend.”

The cover was removed to reveal Barry, still hanging in his restraints, his injuries not healed in the slightest without his meta healing at work. What froze Len’s heart was that the kid was now naked save his boxer brief underwear. What had looked bad before looked devastating as Len viewed the extent to which they’d beaten Barry. His whole torso was black and blue. Len knew Blackmore’s weapon of choice was a hammer and he could clearly make out the round bruises that informed him the kidnapper had used one liberally on Barry. The kid’s eyes were brighter as he stared out of the screen but it was clear his body wasn’t going to be able to carry him anywhere. The camera zoomed in a little so that Barry’s face and shoulders were the focus and an arm draped over one shoulder, the fingers tracing lines around the edges of the bruises on his chest.

“Have to admit you have good taste, Snart,” Stan continued. “Pretty little thing like this – and he’s put so much time into you. I wonder if he’d put some time into me while we have him here? But given his current state I might have to be the one to put in the work.”

Len’s jaw clenched. So that’s why they thought Barry was his boyfriend, by the things they’d said to each other in the alley. Blackmore had made the assumption from a few words, now Barry’s life and more was in danger.

The camera zoomed out so that all of Barry’s body was shown again. He was sat on the bare concrete floor his legs stretched out in front of him. Both legs were thoroughly bruised as well, one knee looked swollen. Kid would have trouble walking. Stan’s hand continued southwards and Len felt a dark rage building in him. His fingers dug into the sides of the phone as Stan’s hand dipped inside Barry’s underwear, sliding lower, Barry twitching uselessly, a groan of pain escaping him as he tried to pull away from his captor, shifting his bad legs to try and close off access. Deal or not, Stan Blackmore was a dead man. Nothing was going to stop that now. The man had just sealed his fate by touching Barry like that…before Len had a chance to touch him like that. Stan’s hand was doing things it had no right to do in there. A small part of Len was pleased to see there was no physical reaction from Barry apart from more pained struggles to get away. But the red that was now edging Len’s vision was his overwhelming feeling – the sudden desire to do violence.

“Docks area, at five this afternoon,” Stan’s voice said then, as the camera zoomed in on Stan’s hand, still where it shouldn’t be. “Forty-six thirty-eight Pier Road.” The video cut off.

Len leaned back against the concrete wall and took a few minutes to get himself under control. There was no way he was showing anyone that video. For no other reason than to save Barry’s dignity he was going to delete it as soon as this whole ordeal was over. He sent a quick text to Lisa and Mick, making sure they knew to ask about Stan Blackmore and then he headed back to the Cortex, his blank expression firmly back in place.

“Okay,” Joe was saying. “I’m being told that three pairs of cuffs have gone missing from the equipment stores.”

“Three?” Snow cried, looking distressed.

“Singh is having the security footage examined, we’ll know if anyone got in.”

“So, we know where they got them, still doesn’t tell us anything about where they are,” Len griped. “I just got another text, meeting place and time.”

“I can get the place covered -.” West started.

“Don’t!” Len snapped. “Wilks’ men are experienced enough, they’ll pick out a group of cops from a mile away.  You’ll only put Barry in danger.”

West crossed his arms. “Then what do you expect us to do?”

“Ramon, is there any way to track the cuffs?” Len asked then. “They give off anything you can find?”

The young engineer frowned, shaking his head. “Nah, sorry man, not even the STAR Labs satellite is sensitive enough to be able to track the tiny energy signature they give off.”

Len sighed, pinching his nose. “Okay, It’s ten thirty. I’ll get the money ready in case we can’t find him before five this afternoon. I’ll let you know if Mick and Lisa find anything. Also look up a guy named Stan Blackmore. He’s worked for Wilks a lot in the past and he was one of the guys in the alley that night. West, look into his known associates, they might know where he is – give Mick the names when you find out, he and Lise will be faster at tracking them down. I’ll send you Mick’s number. I’ll be back.”

 

The storage unit in New Brighton was large but getting full. Len frowned as he pulled up the roller door to get inside. He stepped in, turned on the light and pulled the door down behind him. If anyone had been passing they would have seen nothing more than a stack of standard moving boxes and a few pieces of old furniture, nothing out of the ordinary for such a place. The boxes held a lot more than they gave indication of and there was more behind them that couldn’t be seen from the doorway. This was where Len stored all the stuff he stole, at least the stuff he wanted to keep. One day, when he retired, he would have a nice little place, where he’d hang the paintings, display the sculptures and shelve the first editions he’d been collecting all these years. It was getting on the crowded side though, so he had to shuffle his way between boxes in order to get to the ones he wanted, lifting the empty gym bag he carried, so it didn’t get caught.

Five years ago, he and Mick had been part of a heist to take out an armoured car. It was a bad memory as it was one of the few times he’d ever been outsmarted. One of his crew had been caught, questioned and had caved, leading the cops and the bank to replace the money in the truck with counterfeit cash, while the real money went via a different route. So, although he’d pulled off the job and gotten away with the goods, he’d been left with a pile of useless cash. Never one to throw away a resource that might come in handy he’d kept the five million dollars in high quality fake notes.

He pulled open the cardboard box and smiled at the stacks of cash, neatly piled in layers inside. There were times in the dark of night, when he was in a good mood, he would sometimes think about this money and what he would use it for. One of his favourites, was a fantasy he’d had on and off for years now. The tantalising image of all this cash, strewn about, while Len fucked someone on top of it. He let out a soft chuckle at the idea, only to stop and have to adjust his jeans as that image transformed into him fucking Barry that way. He cursed quietly and stopped that train of thought instantly. Now was not the time. With a sigh he realised it might never be the time. It had been one kiss, and although Barry had responded enthusiastically, Len couldn’t be sure of anything. Kid could just have been feeling down at losing Iris and would have kissed anyone who showed him attention that night. He could very well of thought better of it now he’d had time to think it through. Especially now he was being beaten and groped up because of Len.

With a shake of his head he began counting out stacks until he had two hundred thousand in the gym bag. Today this money would have some value at least. He wasn’t about to hand over real cash to Wilks. He hoped it didn’t come to that though. If anyone else found out that Len was weak enough to hand over money for hostages then Lisa and probably even Mick would be vulnerable to his enemies, not to mention Barry being in further danger if word got out he was Len’s boyfriend, which he wasn’t. It felt odd to be doing all this for a non-boyfriend but at the same time Len wasn’t about to let Barry suffer. Kid was only caught up in this because of circumstance and Len had been truthful at the wedding, they were friends now. He wasn’t about to hang him out to dry.

It was just after noon by the time he returned to STAR Labs, the gym bag in hand. Ramon was busy bashing away at a keyboard. There was no sign of West.

The young engineer looked up, his eyes falling on the bag in Len’s hand before he grinned. “Got something for you.”

“Really?”

“Got a lot actually,” he waved a hand to the screen on the other side of the room. “Seems your friend Stan Blackmore was recently employed in the docks precinct by a small shipping firm. Unfortunately for Stan, the company went belly up and now all their assets are being held before the receivers move in.”

“Which means what, Ramon?” Len demanded, dumping the bag on the floor beside his desk.

“It means there’s an empty warehouse just waiting to be used to hold a hostage. And I checked. Even though there’s supposed to be no activity at all, the lights have been on for the last three days. And the water meter has ticked over – meaning someone’s flushing the toilets. And as final proof, it’s just three warehouses down the street from where your meeting point is.”

Len nodded and was about to ask more when his stomach growled. He realised he hadn’t eaten since last night.

Cisco gave him an amused look and got up, disappearing into the med suite quickly. When he returned, he was holding out some sort of rectangular bar wrapped in plastic.

“What’s this?” Len demanded, looking at the pale brown item in distaste as Cisco handed it to him.

“A Cisco Ramon high-calorie energy bar – as approved by the Flash. We have them for Barry since he’s always in need of more food.”

Len pulled away some of the plastic wrapping and took a small nibble from one corner. One chew was all it took to tell him this was not something he wanted more of and he swallowed with difficulty. “Is there a reason it tastes like carob mixed with sawdust and dried fruit?”

Ramon’s expression became hurt. “Barry never complains.”

“Clearly there’s a reason you’re a brilliant engineer and a not a food tech,” Len replied, folding the wrapping back over the exposed corner.

Ramon’s eyes narrowed. “If you hadn’t just called me brilliant I would be totally offended dude.”

Len smirked but held up the bar. “I’ll keep this for later, who knows, the taste might grow on me.” He was absolutely certain it wouldn’t but didn’t want to upset the young man anymore. He needed him too much right now.

“With all the _astounding_ tech you have here,” he said, bringing the conversation back to topic. “I don’t suppose you can find a layout of Stan’s warehouse?” He shoved the bar in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Ramon told him with a grin. What appeared on the screen next wasn’t the usual top down two dimensional schematic Len was used to. Ramon pulled up a three-dimensional image of the building and for effect, spun it around to show it from all angles.

“How did you get this?” Len asked, amazed at the detail.

“County records office has been digitising all the building plans for the last few years now. Even going back in time. Once I’d downloaded the original flats, I ran it through a three dee program to extrapolate the rest.”

“Nicely done, Cisco,” he murmured.

Cisco was moving his mouse around the screen, pointing out various parts of the building. “So, it only has the ground and first floors, there’s no basement or any type of sublevel. Being an older building it only has the two external fire escapes and there’s only one internal staircase here that leads from the warehouse on the ground floor to the office area above. There is however the large service lift that can take goods to the rest of the top floor if needed.”

Len was nodding, several ideas already beginning to form in his head. His phone started to buzz.

“Mick,” he greeted the arsonist.

“Bad news, boss.”

“Do tell.”

“West came through with a few names for us. Sounds like Blackmore’s been recruiting for the last two weeks. I couldn’t get definite numbers but we’re looking somewhere between ten and twenty.”

“He’s waiting for us,” Len said.

“Looks like this is about more than just your boy and the money.”

“Yeah, Wilks wants blood.”

“Got a plan?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it,” he said. “I’ll call when I get it done, you and Lise be ready to go.”

“Always,” Mick replied.

Len hung up, turning his attention back to the screen.

“What was that about blood?” Snow asked, coming out of the med suite, computer tablet in hand.

“Wilks has called in some bodies,” Len told her. “They’re going to make getting in and out more difficult. At least without killing them.”

“That would be the preferable outcome,” Caitlin told him, frowning. “Your deal with Barry is still in place.”

“Don’t suppose he’d overlook it for his own life?” Len asked, knowing the answer already.

 “Especially for his life!” Caitlin gasped. “He wouldn’t want their deaths on his conscience.”

Len sighed and pinched his nose. “Then we need to find another way.” He stood straighter and looked then both over. “I need to know anything you have here that could help. Info, tech, weapons, anything that will make getting in and out of that building possible without killing anyone. The more I know what I’m working with the more I can plan effectively.” He looked at his watch. “And we now have less than four hours to make it happen.”

Ramon and Snow looked at each other and shrugged.

“Give us ten minutes,” Ramon told him. Then they were both disappearing in opposite directions, Snow to the med suite and Ramon somewhere outside the Cortex, probably his workshop.

He was somewhat annoyed that it was fifteen minutes later before Ramon returned, bringing Wells and Garrick with him, Snow coming out of the med suite when she saw them returning.

Len crossed his arms, leaning back on the Cortex workstation and waited, feeling slightly smug at the way the two younger scientists looked like they were giving a high school presentation.

Snow held up a vial. “Okay, so this is a basic tranquilizer. Works within ten seconds. It should knock out the average sized person for about half an hour if given the correct dose. The only problem I have is how to deliver it.” She turned to Wells. “Do you think you can add it to a dart like you did with the ones for Zoom?”

He nodded with a confident smile. “Absolutely. I can have it converted easily, since we already have the delivery system.”

“If we manufacture enough we could potentially take down all the…bodies,” she said, using Len’s words. “Before they had a chance to do anything.”

Len considered. “Can you get it in a hand gun size? Something Mick and Lise can carry with them?”

“Certainly,” Wells replied, his expression somewhat smug. “If that’s what you want?”

“Do it,” Len ordered with a firm nod. “Also Snow, up the potency if you can. The guys we’ll be facing will probably be bigger than ‘the average person’. What else?”

 Ramon stepped forward, a wide grin stretching his lips as he held up a small box. “Been toying around with these for a while now.” He dipped inside and picked out a small silver disk about two inches across and half an inch thick. “I didn’t know when they were going to come in handy but now seems a great time to give them a field test. I call them Distractors…at least for the time being, I’m sure I can work up something cooler.”

Len took it, turning it over in his hand. The edges had several notches at equal distances that clearly went all the way into the interior of the device. He noticed one side had a circle line around the inside, which he quickly found out was a button as he depressed it. There was a click but nothing happened. “What does it do?”

“They can do a lot of different stuff, dude. I designed them to be multifunctional. I got ones that work as a small smoke bomb. Not enough to fill a room of course, but enough to blind and distract a single person. There are ones that can electrocute, again not as strong as your average taser but enough to have a person thinking about something other than you for ten seconds. I got one that will set off a bright flash to light to temporarily blind someone. I even have ones that have tiny mp3 players and speakers inside, so you can set up a message or run a track on repeat to get people to follow the sound.”

“Can they explode?”

“Depends how much C4 you put in them,” Ramon told him, grinning with a satisfied nod.

“Ramon!” Wells admonished.

Ramon sighed. “But for the purposes of this mission I can set some up with more flash and bang than actual explosion. So, no damage to people or objects.”

“Do it, I’ll take them all,” Len said.

“And,” Ramon added. “The STAR Labs satellite should be able to pick up the infrared signals of people, so I can direct you from the van as to where bad guys are. Also, if I can get the van within two hundred meters of the building, I should be close enough to pick up an energy reading from the cuffs, so we can pinpoint Barry’s location.”

Len was nodding in approval.

“And we have the usual earpiece coms units so we can communicate,” Jay added.

Len looked at the group in front of him. “Garrick, you any good in a fight?”

“Well, I don’t have my speed anymore but I can move pretty quiet. And I do know how to land a punch.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Wells?”

“Can’t say hand to hand is something I do,” the scientist replied. “Nor is breaking and entering. But, if you need someone to take out any external guards, I’m a good shot with the tranc rifle I used on Zoom.”

“Right then,” Len said, uncrossing his arms. “Ramon, pull me up whatever data you can on the surrounding buildings. Other than that, get started on making up what we need. I’ll start putting things together. Ramon, do all the vans have STAR Labs logo on the side?”

“There are two without,” he confirmed.

“Use one of them. Don’t need to let them know where we’re coming from. Is West joining the party?”

“Yeah, he said he’d be back at three,” Ramon confirmed.

“Can you get five tranc guns ready?”

“Might be a push but I’ll get it done,” the engineer replied.

“We’ll help,” Wells added, nodding at Garrick.

“Get going, I need some quiet to think,” Len told them, bringing the meeting to an end. They all left the Cortex, moving with purpose.

Len took a moment to sit down at the computer workstation, closing his eyes and letting his breathing settle. He was a thief. This is what he did. This time he was stealing a man rather than a diamond. There was nothing here that he hadn’t done before, nothing he couldn’t handle. So why did it suddenly feel like such a monumental task? Visions of Barry, battered and being abused ran through his head. Because the man was more precious than any jewel, that’s why.

_Make the plan._

__ With a sigh he opened his eyes, pushing away the images of the speedster and got down to work.

 

It was two thirty-seven when West finally reappeared in the Cortex. Len was at one of the workstations, making notes and finalising timings when the detective stalked in.

“Where is everyone?” he demanded, looking around at the empty Cortex.

“Working on getting Barry back,” Len replied without looking up. “Where have you been?” he asked, wondering what he’d been doing while the rest of them were focused on his foster son.

“After I gave the info to Rory I’ve been trying to find out how those cuffs got into the hands of criminals,” he replied, holding up a flash drive, which he placed on the desk. “Could help us.”

“No, they’re irrelevant right now,” Len corrected him, quickly. “Knowing _how_ they got out of CCPD won’t get us any closer to Barry. Not that we need to now. We’ve got everything we need right here.”

West was looking at the computer screen in front of Len, his brow furrowed. “What is all this?”

“That, detective -,” he waved at the screen and the scribbled paper in front of him. “- is the plan. I tell you, if I had such easy access to this sort of information and tech all the time, I’d have this city on its knees!”

“Then I’m thankful you don’t,” West commented, grumpily.

There was a shuffling of footsteps in the hall outside. Len twisted in his chair to find Mick and Lisa entering the Cortex. With a small grin of welcome he turned back to the workstation.

Len frowned at the consoles in front of him. “Which button calls them all back?” he asked of West, waggling his fingers at the computers vaguely.

West rolled his eyes in exasperation but called up the relevant screen and poked a few buttons. Then he depressed the button near the mic. “Everyone back to the Cortex. Snart has something to say.”

Len smiled pleasantly at him. “Thank you, detective.”

Joe let out a grumpy growl in the back of his throat and just stood with his arms crossed until everyone else returned.

“Okay,” Len told them, as they all found places to settle. “This is how it’s going to go.”

He pulled up a 3-D image of the area around the building. “Wells, you’re going to take out the guards, here and here,” he pointed to the tops of the external fire escape stairs. “- from the top of this building across here.” He pointed again. “Then you’re going to wait in case anyone else shows up to relieve them or see what’s happened to them.”

Wells nodded, looking at the schematic with interest.

“West, you get the main entrance, Garrick, you get the back service door, here,” he pointed to a small solid door at the back of the building, off the street. “Meanwhile, Mick and Lisa are going to take the frontal assault through the loading dock roller door, here.”

“Excellent,” Mick growled, approvingly.

“Wait, you’re sending your sister in the front door?” Cisco exclaimed.

Len glanced at his sister, who was watching the engineer with a wide smile, her eyes softer than usual at his obvious protectiveness.

“Lisa can handle herself. Isn’t that right, sis?” He grinned at her.

“I’ll be just fine, Cisco,” she told him with a confident smile. “It’s just a distraction so Lenny can get to Barry. I’m not going to be putting myself out there.”

Ramon still looked upset but didn’t say anything else.

“What are you going to be doing?” Joe asked, his arms still crossed, his expression disapproving.

“I’ll be retrieving Barry, while the rest of you distract the guards,” Len told them. “There’s only two places that make sense to keep him. Here, in the top front corner near the goods lift and here about halfway along near the first of the upstairs offices.”

“Why those?” Caitlin asked, looking at the building, her eyes squinted with thought.

“They’re the only two areas without windows,” Garrick put in. “No way for anyone to see him from outside.”

“Exactly,” Len told him with a quick pointed finger. “When Wells takes out the guard here at the south stairwell I’ll make my entrance through that door. Once the distraction is in full swing I’ll get Barry back out the same way. We should then be able to retreat.”

“Should?” Joe demanded with raised eyebrows.

Len shrugged with a grin. “I’m planning this a lot quicker than I normally would. I haven’t had time to get exact numbers or precise idea of weapons.” He pointed at West and Garrick. “You two in particular need to watch this stairway. It’s the only way down other than the goods lift,” he indicated the internal staircase. “You’ll be closest and once the fun begins it’s going to draw attention from upstairs.”

They both nodded.

“Ramon and Snow will be monitoring from the van,” Len said then. “You two will be key. Since we couldn’t get definites on a lot of things we’re relying on you to keep us up to date as we go along.”

“We gotcha man,” Cisco said, with a confident nod.

“Blackmore prefers handguns and has been known to set booby traps, so watch your feet. A hand grenade set to a tripwire has been one of his favourites in the past.”

“I know what that’s like,” Snow muttered with an angry glance at Mick, who just grinned and winked at her. Len watched her eyes narrow in dislike but she said nothing more.

“So, if Snow has it correct about the half an hour effectiveness on the tranquilizer, that means we have no more than twenty-five minutes to get Barry out after the first man goes down. Start your watches when that happens, I won’t be calling out times like I normally do with my heists.”

“Aww, we get to miss the legendary Captain Cold efficiency? Bummer,” Ramon said, he tone sounded genuinely disappointed and Len couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

He smirked at the engineer anyway. “I’m sure you’ll still hear enough of my dulcet tones, Ramon.” He looked over the group. “Are there any questions?”

“Yeah, what do we do with all these unconscious criminals once they’re down?” Joe asked.

Len frowned, confused. “We leave them there.”

“Even after helping kidnap Barry and probably trying to take our lives in the process?”

“And what’s the alternative?” he asked. “Dragging them all back into the precinct and arresting them for kidnapping the Flash? You really want to do that?”

West looked conflicted.

“No, we leave them to sleep it off,” Len told him. “We’ll be five minutes gone by the time they wake up and they’ll be none the wiser as to what finally happened.”

“So, you’re just gonna let Blackmore walk?”

“Ah, I didn’t say Blackmore. Stan has a price to pay and I will collect it detective, don’t you worry about that. Just like I’ll make Wilks pay for trying to cross me as well.”

“Do I even want to know what that’s going to entail?”

“No!” Len replied, emphatically.

From the corner of his eye Len could see the doubt and confusion on Snow’s face. “You have a comment to make, Doctor?” He asked, turning towards her.

“No, the plan sounds fine,” she replied, still looking confused. “It’s just, it doesn’t make financial sense.”

“For us?”  Joe asked, looking equally confused now.

“No, for Wilks,” Snow said. “He’s only asked for two hundred thousand. Even if he’s only paying each of those twenty men a thousand dollars each, he still has to be paying for the weapons, whatever he’s paying this Stan Blackmore to put it all together. By the end he really can’t be getting that much out of it.”

“I get it,” Cisco said, nodding in understanding. “I know if I was hiring onto a crew with the potential to get iced by Captain Cold, I’d be asking for a lot more than a thousand dollars. Wilks’ is basically spending the ransom before he’s got it.”

“Exactly,” Snow said. “Why not ask for more?”

“Wilks thinks I screwed him over and he wants to screw me back,” Len told them. “It’s never been about the money, only making sure I know not to mess with him in future.” He turned to the room at large. “Fortunately, he’s going to learn otherwise.”

“And you think we’re happy helping you with that?” Joe demanded.

“No, I think we’re all happy getting Barry back,” Len told him. “Hurting Wilks is just a nice aside.”

“Why the hell are you so desperate to get Barry back, anyway?” Joe asked then.

Len huffed out a loud breath approaching the police officer with a tight grin. “Oh please, detective. Barry’s the only thing that challenges me anymore. There’d be no thrill, no adrenalin if I didn’t have the Scarlet Speedster breathing down my neck during a heist.” He looked at his watch. “I need to recharge the Cold Gun. Twenty-seven minutes until we leave.” He sauntered out of the room, one hand resting on the Cold Gun at his hip. He stopped just out of view of the doors to listen.

Harry sat back in his chair. “And this is the man you want to trust to rescue Barry?” He heard him say.

“I don’t like it any better than you do,” Joe replied. “But right now, Snart is the one who knows Wilks and Blackmore best. We’re gonna have to follow his lead on this.”

“And what’s to say he’ll even rescue Barry, and not just kill him while he’s still in the cuffs and can’t fight back?” Harry asked.

“Because,” Cisco said. “It’s like Snart said, he likes having Barry around. They’re _almost_ friends these days.”

“Almost friends?” Harry demanded, sounding incredulous. “So, Barry likes having him around too?”

“Yeah, man,” Cisco continued. “I mean, ever since they made that deal where Snart doesn’t kill anyone anymore, it’s like Barry enjoys going after him. Like, it’s a fun challenge without there being any life or death situations involved.”

There was the sound of Harry huffing and having difficulty finding words. Len grinned and strolled down the corridor. So, Barry felt the same thrill he did, huh? Of course, he knew the cocky kid got off, at least a little, on putting the bad guys away, but he hadn’t been aware he had such a soft spot for Len himself when it came to the game. Something else to ponder when all this was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The rescue begins. Will Len be able to get Barry back?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues and Team Flash have worked out where Barry is being held. Len has a plan. But as he's well aware it's always possible for the plan to go off the rails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know its been nearly three weeks since my last update so to say sorry for keeping you all in suspense I'm posting Chapters 7 & 8 at the same time. At least that way you won't have to wait to see how the rescue goes.

                Len stopped at the top of the stairwell, stepping over the body of the guard Wells had taken out from across the street. Thick clouds were threatening rain and a cold wind was blowing off the river, making Len shiver even with parka to block the breeze.

“Snart, I got Barry in the top left corner just inside the door from you,” Ramon came over the coms in his ear. “There’s three guards.”

_Execute the plan._

He stretched to peek through the window next to the solid fire door. Barry was still in the same position as the video, naked save his underwear, his hands above his head in the cuffs, sitting on the cold concrete floor. He was hooked to the wall that formed one side of the goods lift. There were three guards as Ramon said, all facing out, towards the main area of the warehouse. He pulled his head back in quickly as one began to turn towards the windows.

“Distraction begins now, people,” Len said with a finger to the coms in his ear.

He waited, turning to look back down the stairs. In the distance, at the opposite end of the building he could see the guard, already taken out by West, and the detective stepping over the body to pull the main door open. Operation underway.

It wasn’t long before there were a number of loud bangs, Ramon’s little Distractors going off and a quick peek through the window saw two of the three guards heading further into the warehouse, while one stayed to watch Barry. Idiots, they should all have stayed put, but that was for Blackmore to lament over later, it only worked better for Len now. There was another loud bang and the sound of the roller door grinding up on its chains.

Thinking it would take too long to pick the lock, he simply pulled the Cold Gun and froze the hinges. The humming sound and the obvious ice marks on the door attracted the guard, his pistol raised but as he got close Len simply kicked the door in, the heavy fire door snapping off at the frozen hinges and landing with a thump on the guard, who groaned in pain at being floored. Len simply stepped on the door to cross the threshold, causing the man to grunt in agony again before Len casually shot him in the neck with a tranc.

With a quick look to make sure there was no one else around, Len strode over to Barry, squatting down in front of the injured speedster.

“Barry,” he said softly, to the seemingly unconscious young man, running a gentle hand through the thick tangled locks.

He stirred, opening his eyes, blinking in the grey light streaming in through the doorway behind them. When he finally managed to get his vision under control he gasped quietly. “Len!” he breathed out through cracked and swollen lips.

Len reached out to stroke his bruised cheek. “Right here, Scarlet.” He pulled the cuffs down off the hook they were hanging over and Barry sighed as his tortured arms lowered to a more comfortable level. He pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the cuffs, throwing them aside. The speedster breathed slow and deep. It was clear something was happening, probably the Speed Force reconnecting with his system. Barry’s eyes opened wider and Len was pleased to see the yellow lightning flicker across them, the young man heaving a sigh of relief.

He shrugged out of the parka, gently pulling Barry’s bare arms into the sleeves, wrapping the coat around his slim frame. “Ready to go?”

“It’s going to be difficult. It hurts when I breath, I think he broke a couple of ribs,” he said, sounding pained and emotionally overwrought. “And they injured my legs, so I couldn’t run even if I got out of the cuffs.”

“Yeah, saw that in the video,” Len said. Barry’s face crumpled into a mask of humiliation. He looked away but there was no blush, kid probably didn’t have the energy. “Hey,” he said softly, turning Barry’s head with gentle fingertips so he was looking him in the eye. “I didn’t show it to anyone.”

“Didn’t even want you to see,” he murmured in a slurred voice through swollen lips.

“Is that all he did to you?” he asked, as gently as possible but desperate to know if Blackmore had defiled him further.

Barry looked away again. “He would have done more but the cameraman seemed to be terrified of you. He made him stop.”

Len took his face in his hands, being careful not to press any of the injuries. “Wilks will pay for this. I’ll make sure of that. I’ll also make sure Blackmore loses his hands at the very least.”

Barry sniffed. “Is there something wrong with me that I don’t mind that idea?”

Len grinned and put a hand to the coms in his ear. “Cisco, I got Barry, coming back down now.”  He leaned in without thinking, kissing the kid’s forehead. “Come on, I’ll get you out of here.”

Barry’s eyes were wide as Len leaned back, but he nodded lifting his arms a little so Len could gather him up. The kid was tense, waiting for the inevitable pain of the movement and although his expression became one of agony, Len was impressed when he made no noise as Len lifted him easily.

He shifted him a little, and Barry wrapped his arms around Len’s shoulders, burying his face in his neck. “You’re so warm.”

“Anything would feel warm to you right now.” Barry was cold in his arms, having been exposed to the icy air of the warehouse for too many hours. His skin was clammy and Len wouldn’t be surprised if the kid had caught cold waiting to be saved.

“Not the way I wanted you to see me naked for the first time,” Barry murmured, and Len almost fell over his own feet. Barry had thought about being naked with him?

“Already seen you naked, remember?” Len told him forcing a smirk as he turned back towards the door he’d come in through.

Barry huffed. “Yeah, right. Be nice if it could happen without me being bruised and battered.”

Len had no answer for that. Well, he had several, but none he was willing to voice right now.

There was a thunderous crashing to Len’s left and suddenly a huge metal box was rolling into place across the doorway in front of them. Len turned and Barry stiffened in his arms, as they both took in the person in front of them. He could have been a body builder, one of the extreme ones who went in for competitions. The veins and tendons stood out across his dark skinned arms and neck as he shook out his biceps after the lift. The sleeveless t-shirt he wore did nothing to hide the massive chest it pulled tight across. His dark brown eyes regarded them with nothing more than curiosity for a moment before he turned to pick up another box, which he again threw at the doorway, rather than them.

“Can you stand?” Len whispered to Barry, still looking at the wall of muscle in front of him.

“Just,” the kid answered, his voice soft and fearful. When Len glanced at him as he put him down near the wall, he could see the fear was for Len not himself. Kid was frightened for him, that was nice. Barry used one hand to balance against the wall as Len turned back to their attacker.

He glanced at the doorway and forced a smirk. “You’re a lousy aim.”

“Perfect aim, actually,” the guy replied, sauntering a few steps forward. His voice was deep and resonate. “Blackmore wants to keep you from getting away. I think you’ll find you can’t lift those.”

“Impressive,” Len commented, glancing again at the boxes. “Meta or just lots of hard work?”

“Both,” the man replied, running a hand over his short cropped hair. “But a lot less work needed in the last two years.”

_Expect the plan to go off the rails._

“So, Blackmore found himself a strongman meta. Good for him. Now I suppose if I want to get away, I need to go through you,” Len said, one hand on the Cold Gun and the other in his pocket.

“Oh, I think you’ll find there’s no going through me,” he said as he started forward to close the distance between them. “You and the kid just need to stay put until he’s ready for you.”

Len pulled the Cold Gun, the weapon humming to life as he iced the floor in front of him, all the way to the feet of their new guard. “Watch your step!” he suggested with a smirk.

_One._ Click.

The man looked at the floor. “So, I guess neither of us is going anywhere for a while,” noticing the ice started near Len’s feet, effectively stopping him from moving forward either, without the threat of slipping over.

_T_ _wo._ Click.

“Guess again,” Len told him with a sneer.

_Three._ Click.

Len pulled the Distractors from his pocket, sliding three of them across the smooth covering of ice towards the hulking mass, throwing himself over Barry to shield him from the effects.

The first one went off with a bright flash of light, causing their guard to cry out in alarm, the second two crackled with electricity, sparking white streaks of lightning towards the victim’s legs. He screamed in pain and dropped to one knee as lines of white arced up his body. Len pulled the tranc gun from the back of his jeans and fired, just as the man was regaining his feet, hitting him in the neck, once, twice, three times, in rapid succession.

He silently started counting to ten, hoping Snow had been correct in her assessment of how long before it took effect. He turned to see if Barry was okay, just as a heavy lump sounded behind him, letting him know it had worked. The speedster was leaning bodily against the wall, looking at where the guy had fallen with wide eyes. He looked back at Len then, astonished pride shining all over his face as he smiled. His cracked lips had already healed over, the swelling was almost gone, and Len really shouldn’t be focussing on Barry’s lips right now. He turned back to the door he’d come through, going to give the boxes a quick shove. Muscle man had been right, there was no way he was going to be able to move them. He quickly looked to the fire escape door on the other side of the warehouse, noting it too already had boxes in front of it.

_Throw the plan away._

“So, how do we get over the ice?” Barry asked, tentatively.

“Really Scarlet, you think I don’t know how to get passed my own ice?” Len told him with a smirk and stepped up to the patch of smoothness on the floor. With a heavy boot he crushed the leading edge of the ice, the sharp crunch was followed by a spidering of cracks. Len continued stepping forward and stomping down with each step, breaking a rough line through the ice until he’d reached the other side. Then he turned and kicked the broken chunks aside making a wet but clear path down the middle.

With nothing more than a satisfied smirk at the surprised look on Barry’s face, he gathered him up again, walked through the ice patch without incident and started on their way.

“Cisco,” he said into the coms unit. “Change of plans, I’m gonna have to take Barry out through the downstairs.”

“Got it,” he responded. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“How’s Barry?” Snow, voice sounded in his ear.

“The same as the photo. Damaged but alright. He’ll need that stretcher though.”

“I have everything ready,” she replied.

“So here we are again,” Barry muttered, warm breath trailing across Len’s neck. The thief had to repress a shiver. “You carrying me to safety. I think you were right, you are my Ice-clad Knight.”

Len stopped and looked down at him. The Flash was admitting he needed saving – by Len?! Barry’s eyes were large and soft, glistening in the low light of the warehouse.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned at the sudden appearance of tears.

Barry looked away. “Yeah.”

“Scarlet?” Len demanded, gently.

“This position isn’t…the best for my ribs…that’s all.” It was admitted with difficulty.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Len growled, preparing to put him down.

“No!” Barry gasped. “If you make me walk it’ll just slow us down, besides -.”

“Besides what?” he asked, when Barry didn’t say anymore.

Barry was blushing then, a little heat finally beginning to radiate off him. “Apart from the discomfort it’s…nice in your arms. I’d – I’d like to stay here.” Was Len just projecting his own desires, or did it sound like Barry was talking about more than being rescued?

Instead of answering he straightened up and kept walking, making sure to stop every now and then to make sure he didn’t hear any other guards. There was the sound of shouting from downstairs and the sound of weapons fire, followed by more of Ramon’s doo-hickeys going off. Len tried to work out what was going on but it sounded like Mick and Lisa had stirred the hornet’s nest when they entered. It was chaos down there.

“God this parka’s warm,” Barry commented quietly, after a while. “How do you wear this through summer?”

“I’m happy to suffer for my art,” Len replied, with a grin.

Barry chuckled quietly into his neck. “I’ve missed you this last week. Missed talking, laughing…kissing.”

Len’s breath caught at that admission, but he didn’t get a chance to answer.

“Snart, two coming at you from the east end,” Ramon offered over the coms.

Len stopped at the information and the sound of hurried footsteps caught his attention. He ducked behind a pile of crates, leaning Barry against the boxes. The young man nodded silently as he balanced himself on his injured legs, resting against the wooden crates for support. Len took a few steps forward, glancing around the tower of boxes. Two guards rushed by, Len having to hold himself still from going at them. Right now, the aim was to get Barry out of here without more injury, not get caught up in fist fights that would only bring more guards down on them. Len was a thief first and foremost, getting in and out of places unseen was his specialty. He could do that, even with Barry in his arms.

He put a finger to his ear. “Mick,” he called softly. “I got two headed for the goods lift, looks like they’re trying to get behind you.”

“Got it, boss,” Mick replied, sharply.

As the guards moved out of view he turned back to Barry to pick him up again, only to stop at the look on Barry’s face. The speedster was gazing at him in concern. One hand reached out to touch Len’s face, fingertips lightly running along his jaw that was still slightly swollen.

“Where did you get this?” Barry asked, his brows drawn down together.

 “Joe,” he answered, simply.

Barry grimaced and then stopped as it hurt his own bruised face. “Sorry about him. He gets overprotective.”

“Deserved it. It’s my fault you’re here.”

Barry’s expression became more concerned and he reached out his other hand, taking Len’s face between light fingers. “This wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Thumbs started to caress Len’s cheekbones, sending a tingle across his skin.

“You’re here because of me,” Len reminded him, trying hard to stop his voice from catching. Barry touching him this readily was causing an odd tightness in his stomach he’d never had before, and the soft wideness of those hazel eyes was distracting him from the mission.

Barry closed the distance between them with one small step, their chests pressed together, noses just an inch apart. “I don’t blame you,” he whispered, their noses brushing as Barry leaned closer. “Don’t blame yourself.”

Len’s breath stopped. Was the kid about to kiss him? Here? Now? Len could feel him trembling against his chest suddenly. “Barry?” he asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Barry swayed as his hands fell limply from Len’s face. Len caught him up, eliciting a gasp of pain as he squeezed his injured ribs.

“Dammit Scarlet, what is it?” Len exclaimed in a cut off hiss, remembering at the last moment to keep his voice down.

“They – they didn’t feed me,” Barry murmured collapsing into his neck again. “I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours. I’m going hypo.”

Len suddenly remembered the energy bar Ramon had forced on him before they left. Letting go of Barry with one arm he pulled it from his back pocket. It was crushed flat, and the wrapping had come undone where he’d taken a bite but it was still in one piece and Barry grabbed it without a word, scoffing it down in moments before returning to rest against Len’s neck.

“That’ll help,” he muttered. “Just give me a minute. Doesn’t take long once I get some calories.”

Len wrapped both arms around him lightly. “Take your time. The others haven’t finished cleaning up downstairs yet. We can wait.” Barry was warming up, the Speed Force taking over his body heating him from the inside out. Len could feel it against his chest and neck as the kid leaned heavily against him. He wanted to tighten his grip but didn’t dare. He wanted to let Barry know how sorry he was for getting him into this predicament but that wasn’t something Len did. To him the word meant nothing, only actions made up for things done wrong.

“What else can I do for you?” he asked gently, his hand slipping up under the parka to stroke Barry’s back lightly.

Barry shivered at the caress. “Well, that’s pretty nice. Just keep doing that,” he murmured, nestling closer to Len’s neck, until his lips brushed against his skin. “For a long, long time.”

“Can’t stay here forever, Scarlet,” he told him, listening to the sounds from downstairs getting louder and more chaotic.

“Mmm,” Barry hummed in response, lifting his arms to wrap around Len’s neck again.

Shit. Why was it, closeness with Barry always seemed to come attached to danger and injury? He had this beautiful boy in his arms _again_ but didn’t have the luxury of keeping him there. To his surprise the kid let loose a soft snore.

“Barry,” he whispered sharply in his ear. “Barry, now’s not the time to sleep.”

He lifted his head, quickly coming back to consciousness. “Sorry. It’s the food thing, and I haven’t slept either. Exhausted.”

“Okay, there was a breakroom at the furthest end of this floor. There might be something there,” Len told him.

Barry nodded in a vague sort of way and Len wondered if the kid even knew what was going on at the moment. Len lifted him gently but still managed to pull a gasp of pain from him. His eyes focused a bit more as the pain flowed through him. It didn’t take them long, and thankfully all the guards seemed to have been pulled downstairs by the distraction. He placed Barry in one of the chairs and started pulling open cupboards and drawers. Blackmore certainly hadn’t spent up big on supplies for his men but he managed to find half a packet of chocolate biscuits. He passed that to the weakened speedster while he opened the fridge. There were a couple of salad sandwiches that looked a day old and a fresh carton of milk. He grabbed all of it and dumped them in front of Barry, astounded that he’d already finished the biscuits. Kid tore open the sandwiches without pause, taking large gulps of milk between bites. It was only two minutes and thirty-eight seconds before Barry had demolished the food and was sitting back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, finally looking more alert and less likely to faint.

“Better?” Len asked, astounded at how quickly the kid could put it away, even without superspeed.

Barry’s grin was sunny, despite his situation. “Much. Let’s get out of here.”

Len bent down to pick him up again.

 “My legs don’t feel quite so bad,” Barry admitted then, sounding guilty. “I think I can walk now. It’s just the knee he hammered is still weak.”

Len hesitated. “Do you want to walk?”

A soft blush spread across Barry’s cheeks. “Not necessarily, but it’ll be more dangerous downstairs, yeah? You should probably have your hands free.”

Len considered that. Keeping Barry in his arms longer was tempting but the kid had a point. “Okay, stay behind me,” Len said, holding out a hand to help him to his feet.

Barry took it with a small grateful smile and they left the breakroom hand in hand, Barry limping on his bad leg, Len just in front. The stairs down to the ground floor were just outside the break room door, after that the door to the main entrance was just at the bottom. He’d have Barry out of here soon enough.

As he took the first step down Barry’s hand in his tightened and pulled him back. Dragged off balance Len staggered back and hit the wall of the break room, as Barry stepped in front of him, placing a hand on his chest.

Len looked down at the fingers splayed out against his shirt and smirked. “Now Scarlet, as much as I’ve daydreamed about you pushing me up against a wall I don’t think now is the time for fantasy fulfillment.” The words were out of his mouth before they’d even connected to his brain. What the hell was he saying?

Barry’s expression warped into something like anger. “I swear to god Len, one day I’m gonna kiss that fucking self-satisfied smirk right off your face!” Barry hissed and then stopped, as it occurred to him what he’d just said. A second later a soft blush was colouring his cheeks. “There’s…I mean…I saw -,” he muttered pointing down at the stairs.

As embarrassed as Len was, he followed Barry’s pointing finger and saw what the kid was talking about. One the third step down, barely visible in the low light was a thin wire, stretched across the step. Len had missed it, but Barry hadn’t, effectively saving both their lives and all Len had done was joke about it. No wonder he was suddenly pissed.

“Thanks, Barry,” he said in all seriousness, squeezing the hand the was still somehow resting on his chest. He moved forward and took a second to disable the tripwire, cutting the wire that was tied around the pin of a grenade, so no one else would accidently set it off. Then Barry carefully slid forward, holding himself against the railing as his weak knee threatened to have him toppling down the stairs.

Barry grabbed Len’s elbow firmly and limped down the stairs next to him, both of them silent, too embarrassed after their combined outbursts. As they stepped down onto the rough concrete of the ground floor Barry gave a sharp hiss and stumbled forward, his bad knee finally giving out. Len hauled him up into his arms again, Barry whimpering pathetically at the pain in his knee and ribs. Len turned to the doors to move outside, only to stop and begin walking backwards into the warehouse at what he saw coming through the doors.

A short redheaded man pushed open the glass doors of the main entrance with one hand, his other pointing a pistol towards them. He moved to one side, continuing to hold open the door for Stan Blackmore who was also pointing a weapon at them as he strode in with a wide grin on his face.

“Well now, don’t you two make a pretty pair,” he said, still grinning. “Carrying your sweet dish to safety Snart. Must be thinking what a nice ride you’ll get in thanks. When he heals up a little, that is.”

A quick glance at Barry showed no fear, just anger and disgust.

“You’d best let me leave now, Stan,” Len told him, his Cold drawl fully in place. “It may just save you the backlash that’s coming.”

“You’re not going anywhere until Wilks gets his money, Snart,” Blackmore told him. “You think I didn’t know you’d try and save your boy here. Been waiting all day for you to make your move.”

“Really?” Len commented, gazing around at the lack of men as West and Garrick came into view, both with tranc guns drawn. “And how’s that worked out for you so far?”

Blackmore grinned, seemingly unmoved by the lack of support, pointing the gun more specifically at Barry. “I have you here now. All you have to do is produce the money and I’ll let you go.”

“Afraid that’s not going to happen,” Len told him, as Lisa and Mick came into view at the end of a row of boxes further down the warehouse, moving towards them cautiously as they saw the situation ahead of them. “I have you out numbered.”

“But hardly outgunned,” Blackmore replied. “Those little sleep darts aren’t going to keep you from paying Wilks what you owe him.”

Barry’s arms tightened around him and turned his head into Len’s neck.

“Aww, little Flash feeling a bit weak and needy?” Blackmore sneered. “Fuck Snart, I’d love to hear how you managed to get this one under you. Did he come willingly, or did you have something on him?”

Len’s body tensed at that. “None of your business, Stan.”

“Put me down,” Barry whispered in Len’s ear, his lips brushing Len’s lobe in a way that made him repress a shiver. There was something angry and resolute in his voice that gave Len pause but he couldn’t deny the kid the simple request.

He glanced at West and Garrick, the detective giving him a slight shake of his head. Blackmore could easily get off a shot before any tranc put him out. Len sighed. “You want the money Stan, fine. I have it out in the van, just let me call for it.”

“No tricks, Snart,” Blackmore held the weapon steady.

He lowered Barry to the ground, the speedster resting bare feet on the cold concrete. Len put a finger to his ear. “Ramon, bring the bag in. Come through the main entrance.”

“On my way,” the surprised answer came over the coms.

Len slipped his other hand around Barry to steady him as he swayed, resting a hand on his hip and drawing him against his body for support. There was more heat radiating off Barry now, in the way Len was used to feeling when they were this close. It was seeping into the hand that held Barry in place, providing a very pleasant indication that Barry was quickly coming back to life after his ordeal. But the kid was still exhausted, leaning heavily against Len, resting his head with closed eyes on Len’s shoulder, one hand resting in the small of Len’s back.

“Come on, Snart,” Blackmore practically begged, watching them both closely as they waited for Ramon to arrive. “The world thinks you two are enemies. You gotta tell me how you managed to bag the Flash’s arse.”

“A gentleman doesn’t discuss such matters,” Snart replied with a tilt of his head.

Blackmore laughed. “You’re no gentleman.”

Len grinned, knowing how right Blackmore was.

“Coming in now,” Cisco’s voice sounded in his ear.

“Your money, Stan,” Len said with a nod towards the door.

Blackmore turned to glance behind him, as did the redhead. Cisco appeared outside, bag in hand, holding it up to the two armed men before he pushed the door open.

Len suddenly found himself swaying in place as the weight of Barry’s body disappeared from his side. There was a blur of yellow lightning and before any of them could react Blackmore and the redhead were on the ground, groaning in pain and holding their bodies. Barry stood over Blackmore, blind fury casting his face into something tormented as he punched the kidnapper over and over again, the man’s face quickly becoming a bloodied mess.

“Shit!” Len swore quietly and rushed forward, grabbing Barry around the waist and hauling him off the guy before he did something he’d regret. “Barry…Barry,” he exclaimed, as the kid tried to pull away from his grasp, desperate to keep pummelling the man who’d tortured him. “It’s okay, I got you,” Len murmured in his ear and Barry finally collapsed, turning in Len’s arms, shaking with silent sobs as he clung to his neck again.

Len’s expression darkened as he watched West and Garrick lift the two barely conscious kidnappers. Barry wouldn’t have reacted like that for a simple beating. There had to have been more go on in the last twenty-four hours. Again, he was struck by the sudden desire to apologise for this being his fault. He took the kid in his arms, carrying him away from the others to give him some privacy as he pulled himself back together.

He rested him on a set of boxes but Barry refused to let go of him, clutching at the back of his shirt when he tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” the kid murmured in his ear, tears in his voice. “I’m sorry. I lost it. I shouldn’t have -.”

“Get the feeling you were allowed to,” Len replied, quietly, his hand again stroking Barry’s back in comfort.

The kid let out a shaky sigh and relaxed against him. Len took a moment to look at his watch.

“We still have seven minutes before the first guard was due to wake up,” he said. “Rest a second.”

Barry let out a breathy laugh. “Timed down to the second as always.” He pulled back to look at Len, his eyes wide and wet. “I knew you were coming. I knew you’d get Cisco and Caitlin to help.”

“Like I said, my fault. Leaving you in the lurch, would be just _cold_.”

 Barry smiled at the pun, a little of the sparkle coming back to his eyes. “Thank you.”

He couldn’t help himself. He knew West and the others were probably watching them, he knew they could be seen but he suddenly didn’t care. He reached out, cupping Barry’s cheek, which he noticed was now mostly bruise free. He ran a thumb along his cheekbone in an act of tenderness that had Barry’s eyes, looking more green than hazel right now, widening in a pleasing way. “No need to thank me.”

Barry’s gaze kept darting to Len’s lips and he wondered if the kid was going to try and kiss him again when there was a loud groan from across the room. They both turned to find the kidnappers being pulled up by their arms.

 

Barry watched as Rory pulled Blackmore’s arms tight behind him, Jay doing the same with the small redhead.

“Take me over to them,” Barry told Len, quietly.

“You sure?”  the thief asked, looking concerned.

Barry grinned tightly, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Oh yeah.”

Len carried him to them, both the kidnappers looking nervous at the approach. Barry shifted and Len lowered him gently to the ground where Barry balanced himself on his badly bruised legs. They weren’t feeling so bad now but with Len keeping an arm around his bare waist, the hot line of fabric against his cold exposed skin was as comforting as being carried had been and he was reluctant to say he no longer needed the support.

“So, you know who I am?”  Barry asked the two men.

Blackmore grinned. “Know and will tell.”

“No, you won’t,” Barry told him.  “Look at who’s standing in front of you and make the wise decision to keep quiet.”

Blackmore actually laughed. “You think I’m scared of you, kid?  You’re the man who saved Central City, a full-on hero.  You’re not going to kill me, it’s not what you do. You’ll send me to jail but you won’t hurt me.”

“You see any cops here, Stan?”  Barry asked, looking at the others around the room.  “See any sort of authority figure who gives a crap what happens to you? Right now, I could leave you as nothing more than a quivering lump of flesh and no one would know.”

From the corner of his eye Barry could see the concern on Joe’s face but he chose to ignore it.  If he was ever going to restore any of his dignity he needed to do this.

“But you won’t,” Blackmore retorted, his mouth formed into a contemptuous sneer.

Barry smiled. “Let me educate you.” He cast around the room.  “Lisa, could you pass me that piece of wood.” He gestured to a broken piece of board that had been broken from one of the crates during the fight.

Lisa smiled brilliantly and holstered her Gold Gun, picking up the ragged chunk and holding it out to Barry. He took it in one hand, his other vibrating. He phased his hand inside the piece and the wood shattered into a blizzard of splinters that showered the group.

Blackmore huffed.  “Very impressive.”

“It is,” Barry replied with a proud smile. His hand was vibrating again as he raised it towards Blackmore’s chest. “Do you know I can burst your heart inside your chest without getting a drop of blood on anyone?” He stopped his hand just millimetres from the kidnapper’s chest, making sure the man could feel the violent movement of air right through his body.

Blackmore drew back against Rory, his expression less certain. “You wouldn’t. You’re the Flash. You’re a do-gooder.”

He smiled larger, leaning in until his face was an inch from Blackmore’s, the sound of his vibrating hand loud between them. “But I’m Leonard Snart’s boyfriend – how good could I possibly be?”

Blackmore flinched as if he’d somehow missed that possibility. Barry’s hand went still and he placed a flat palm on the thug’s chest. He could see Cisco to the side, his hands clutched around the bag strap, his expression angry and tortured.  It gave Barry an idea.

“I don’t need to kill you to make sure you never tell anyone about me,” Barry told him quietly, calmly, his gaze boring into Blackmore’s. “All you have to know is that if my identity is ever revealed to the public, or anyone else, the last thing I’d do before I went into hiding – was come looking for you.”

Barry sighed in what he hoped was a theatrical sort of way. “Of course, you are right about one thing, I wouldn’t kill you. If you reveal my identity I wouldn’t be that merciful.”

His hand on Blackmore’s chest gripped his shirt tight. “I’d start with the bits you don’t need. Like your appendix and spleen, everyone can get by without those.  Then, then I’d take the excess bits. A lung, a kidney, an eye, although, after what you tried to do to me, I may have to take both testicles.” Blackmore went pale, swallowing hard. “Of course, shattering bones in a leg and an arm to the point there was no hope of reconstruction, with the end result being amputation, that’d take a bit of time but I’d be happy to spend it with you.

“In short, you say a word about me to anyone and I’ll leave you a ground down stump of a man who can barely function but will continue to live a half existence for many years to come. Now do you get who and what I am, Stan?”

Blackmore nodded, suddenly looking terrified. It may have had something to do with the fact Len had leaned forward and rested his chin on Barry’s shoulder, holding him loosely with both arms now.  He was grinning like a shark who smelled blood in the water. Barry let go of Stan’s shirt and leaned back against Len, who rested his cheek on Barry’s hair.

Barry looked over at the redhead, who was white pale and literally trembling in Jay’s grip. “Bryan, was it?”

The man nodded vigorously.  “Don’t hurt me man, I helped you, I looked after you.”

“You didn’t do it out of the goodness of your heart, you did it out of fear of Len.  And you should be afraid.  Because now I’m going to leave you in his hands,” Barry told him. “He gets to decide what to do to you.”

“ _What?_ ” Bryan’s legs gave out and Jay had to haul him back up again.

Blackmore was looking even more frightened. “We promise we won’t tell anyone. Okay, we promise, you can let us go now.”

“Sorry,” Barry told him with a sad smile. “Keeping my identity secret is for me to deal with. But this was about trying to extort money out of Len on behalf of Charlie Wilks and you still need to make up for that.” Barry was finding it strangely satisfying to see the once confident kidnapper crumbling in front of him. He leaned back into Len, looking up at the thief.  “And I’m afraid Len doesn’t like it when other people touch his stuff.”

Len smiled down at him, eyes warm.  “Oh, Scarlet. You’re so considerate.” He leaned in to kiss Barry’s temple quickly then turned to Mick. “You know where to take them.”

Mick replied with a vicious grin and began hauling Blackmore away, the thug’s steps beginning to falter. Bryan was already snivelling and sniffling like he was on the way to the gallows, as Lisa took him from Jay’s grip and began to follow the arsonist. Barry could find no sympathy for either of the kidnappers. As they disappeared from view Barry sagged, finally letting the pain and exhaustion take over. Len grabbed him up, taking him in his arms again. He could have moved with only an arm for support but there was no way he was going to lose the chance to have Len hold him again.

“Where’s the van?” Len demanded of Joe.

Joe jerked a finger over his shoulder, his eyes on Barry. He was looking at him like he didn’t know who he was. “Outside…the carpark.”

Len wasted no more words but carried Barry outside.  A cold wind hit him as Len stepped out of the door Cisco held open for him.  Barry shivered, clutching tighter at Len’s neck.

“You’ll be warm soon, kid,” he murmured.

“How’d I do at being the bad guy?”  Barry asked, wanting to distract himself from the cold and pain.

Len grinned. “Not a bad first attempt,” he told him. “You need to work on your timing though. A good monologue is all in the pauses.”

Barry chuckled. “I’ll remember that for next time.” He watched the van getting bigger as they drew closer. “Don’t be too hard on Bryan, he really did keep Stan off me.”

“And that’s what will keep him intact,” Len replied. “I’ll put a little more fear in him and then tell him to get out of town and never come back. He’s not going to trouble you. Blackmore’s a different matter.”

“No killing, okay?”  Barry told him. When Len didn’t reply, Barry reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, making the thief look at him.  “Other than that, I don’t care what you do.”

Len’s eyes widened a little, his expression worried but he nodded and turned around to see if someone was with them.  Joe was right behind but the van door was already sliding open from the inside. Caitlin was there, ushering Len in so he could place Barry on the gurney that had been setup inside for his retrieval. Barry let out a sigh of relief as his tortured body was let relax comfortably, Len taking extra care to not jar his legs or ribs more than was necessary. The thief then threw a blanket over him before Caitlin could move to do it.  Barry smiled as he tucked the top around his chin.

He instantly felt warmer out of the wind and covered up. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Len placed a hand on his shoulder. “Get better,” he said, quietly and then he left without another word.

Barry watched him go, confused but his view of the retreating thief was quickly obscured by the door sliding closed. Harry put the van in motion and then they were on their way back to the Labs, where no doubt Caitlin would scold him, Joe would lecture him and Cisco would sympathise with him. Barry closed his eyes and tried not to think about any of that, concentrating instead on how warm he was under the blanket and in Len’s parka, and how that warmth reminded Barry of Len’s arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Barry's safe and back with his friends. Len's doing some investigations. And they both have some soul searching to do.
> 
> Also guys I have a question: What do you think would be a good nickname for Barry to call Len? Len calls him "Scarlet" all the time and I'd like to find something appropriate for Len but it currently escapes me. Does any one have any suggestions?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry is back with his friends and family after the kidnapping but is feeling anything but happy and safe. Len is doing some work to make sure it never happens again and comes across some interesting information along the way. They both have a lot of soul searching to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive THANK YOU to all the wonderful people who have been leaving comments on this work. They keep me motivated to keep writing and warm my heart. I'm so glad you're all enjoying it.

                Len entered the safehouse on the edge of Central City proper just after the sun finally dropped below the horizon. This particular one was an actual house in a short cul-de-sac with a large yard and no nearby neighbours. It was surrounded by large trees, so nothing could be seen from the street. It made the perfect place to hold their unwelcome guests, especially since the large basement area made sure that none of the sounds would filter to the outside world. Len placed his helmet on the bench in the entryway and shrugged out of his leather riding jacket, hanging it on the hook next to Lisa’s and Mick’s.

There was the beep of the microwave from the kitchen and Len made his way there, entering just as Lisa was pulling a plate from inside the device.

She looked up as he entered and she gave him a weak smile. “Our guests are down in the basement. Mick’s making sure they aren’t going anywhere.”

He nodded and leaned against the bench as she pulled open the draw to retrieve cutlery. She offered him the plate but he shook his head. “Not hungry.”

She frowned slightly but nodded and took a stool at the bench, beginning to twirl pasta around the fork. “How was Barry?”

“He’ll be better now he’s back with his friends,” Len told her.

“You didn’t stick around?”

“No.”

She was frowning deeper. “Where have you been then?”

“Thinking,” was all he answered, looking at the floor.

She nodded, staring at him, her expression concerned but she seemed to decide not to ask the question that was nagging at her, for which Len was grateful.

There was the creak of a wooden door and the bash of it closing firmly. Mick shuffled lazily into the kitchen, his nose crinkled at the smell of food. “All done. Although I may have to put towels under Bryan – guy looks like he’s about to piss himself at any moment.”

Len smiled grimly. “Good. That’ll work well for you.”

“Me?” Mick raised an eyebrow.

Len shrugged with a tight smirk. “If there’s anyone who can scare the shit out of him it’s you. And he needs to think we’ll slice him into small pieces if he dares mention what he knows.”

Mick grunted.

“Speaking of what people know -,” Len started and they both looked at him. “Neither of you can say anything about what you learned today. Ever.”

“And what did we learn?”  Mick asked, looking confused.

“Mick!” Len warned his expression becoming as cold as he could make it with his mind churning the way it was.

Mick frowned for a moment. “Oh, you mean about Red? That was nothing new. Known that for a while now.”

Len frowned. When did Mick work out -?

Mick laughed at his confusion. “You’ve had a hard-on for Red ever since he stood you up for your second date at the customs warehouse. Didn’t think I knew you were chasing after him all this time?  And then you bring home that scrawny kid Barry who just happens to be the same height and build? And heals a broken leg overnight?” He grinned at Len’s surprised expression. “Yeah, I’ve given out enough broken limbs over the years to know a break when I see one. And he miraculously left the next day. What was I supposed to make of that except he could heal real fast?” He took the fork from Lisa and grabbed a mouthful of pasta. “The only thing I’m still wondering is when you’re going to get your head out of your arse and do something about how you _feeeel_.”

The word was spoken in tones of the greatest scepticism and disgust.  Len looked at the ground and shifted uncomfortably under Mick’s scrutiny. Any other time he would have held his gaze and blown it off, making sure to deny everything in the most casual terms but it was too close. Too close to having lost Barry to Blackmore, to close to having Barry in his arms, too close to having Barry repeatedly declare how much he wanted to spend intimate time with Len. He found himself completely unable to put voice to any denial.

“Fuck,” Mick breathed, and Len lifted his gaze to see the arsonist looking at him with astonishment. “You’ve actually -.”

Len abruptly turned and left the kitchen, heading for the bedroom he used here. He grabbed everything he needed and went to the bathroom, intent on grabbing a long shower, a very long shower. He had to think.  But he had to think properly, clearly, with purpose, not the useless churning of thoughts and feelings that kept his brain confused and unfocused, driving him to distraction and not an end result.

The blisteringly hot water helped relax the concrete that was the muscles of his shoulders and he breathed in the steam, concentrating for a long time on the rivulets of water running over his body. He’d got what he wanted, for Barry Allen to know Len wanted him and want Len back. But god what had he got himself into? Somehow without even knowing it, Barry had got Len to move past sex to love, before sex had even been put on the table.

Since Lewis’ death Barry had been so open, so genuine with Len, like there was nothing between them that a little time getting to know each other couldn’t uncover. He’d let Len into the darkness that played on his mind, had asked him to help with personal difficulties like Reggie Thawne, had accepted his help against metas. He’d held nothing back from Len and the thief was gratified by the trust Barry had placed in him.

Len stood, bent nearly in half, resting his hands flat on the wall of the shower, head down, wondering what the hell to do now. His desire for the speedster had only grown knowing the young man wanted him just as much but fucking hell, the kid had sung a love song to him, what was he supposed to do with that? That soft voice, breaking with its own pain had cracked the walls around Len’s heart and he realised Barry was worth of so much more than just sex. But was this old criminal the one to give it to him?

Len had little experience with love. Lewis had made sure it wasn’t a standard feeling in Len’s range of emotions. Lisa was his sister, Mick a brother but romantic love was something outside Len’s experience. Could he give Barry what he needed, what he deserved? He loved to see Barry smile, that gorgeous smile like the fucking sun, the one that shone at Len like he was worthy of it. He wanted to put that smile on Barry’s face permanently, but it was going to take more than sex to keep it there. But Barry had declared today, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted Len.  Was that the place to start?

Perhaps bed was the mutually desired place to begin whatever this was. From there they could take steps toward something else? Len groaned in frustration and pressed his forehead to the tiles of the shower. But then there was Blackmore and people like him. People who were willing to use the ones Len loved against him. Lisa had been kidnapped or threatened several times over the years and now Barry was on the verge of being used that way as well. Did Len’s selfish desires give him the right to put Barry in that position? Were they selfish when Barry had those desires as well? Barry knew everything about Len and now he was well aware of the possibility. Would that make him less inclined to be with him? Should he just let him go and keep that one extra burden off Barry?

It was the prudent course of action but there were these overwhelming, undeniable feelings that ripped at Len’s walls. He wanted Barry in his arms, wanted to hear him voice his confidence in Len, wanted to see that smile directed at him again. For the first time Len had found something he wanted so desperately but he couldn’t actually steal…he was going to have to work for it. But should he, given the inherent difficulties of developing a relationship with Barry Allen, CSI…with the Flash, hero of Central City? He wanted Barry for himself but was that ever going to be possible with a kid who was willing to give all of himself, including his life, to keep the whole city safe?

Len slapped off the water and stood dripping, breathing ragged. Fuck! How did normal people do this over and over again in their lives? How did they live with this uncertainty and indecision? It wasn’t something Len had ever fought with before. He dried himself off, dressing and quickly returned to his room to continue brooding over the situation.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door and Lisa entered before he could tell her not too. She gave him a gentle smile and came to sit next to him.

“So, this is what’s had you out of sorts since Christmas,” she said with a sigh of relief, as she snaked an arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder.

Len crossed his arms and looked down at the bed unable to answer her, even though he now understood what had been nagging at the back of his mind all this time.

“After dad -,” he started but then stopped.

“I know,” she replied, quietly. “You did some thinking.”

He nodded. “I realised the real reason I ever became such a good thief was to prove to dad we didn’t need him anymore. That I could look after you by myself. I could be the better man he never was. Somewhere along the way I started to crave the rush of the planning and execution of a heist, the satisfaction of getting away with the goods. I lost sight of the fact it was all to keep you safe and happy.”

She squeezed his arm in recognition.

“I am the best thief, sis. Am I a better man than him?”

“You’ve always been better than dad,” she whispered. “There’s no doubt about that. I think what you’re really wondering is if you’re a good man.”

“And am I?” he asked, looking her in the eye.

“You’re asking the wrong person,” she replied. “You’ve always been good to me.” She smiled then. “Maybe you should ask someone else.”

He huffed and looked back at his lap. “Have been.”

“And does he think you’re good?”

“Yes,” he replied in a strained whisper that nearly caught in his throat. “He -.”

“Hey,” she whispered, running a comforting hand along his arm as a wave of emotion he was barely able to hold back threatened to overwhelm him.

Len took a deep breath and held it until the feeling subsided. He let out the breath slowly and then huffed out a frustrated sigh. “He keeps saying it, keeps showing it. Little prick keeps making me feel like it might be possible.”

“He keeps saying it because you keep proving him right, brother dear,” she said then, with a smile. “Saving his life and his virtue, holding him while he has nightmares…yes I heard all that that night. Fighting evil metas, taking runaways to shelter, turning up to Iris’ wedding so he didn’t feel sad and left out…yes I did see you lurking in the shadows and yes I had a very good idea why you were there. And we both know you haven’t stolen anything since we came back from Coast City. He has every reason to believe you’re good.”

“Yeah, but he wants to believe _everyone_ is good.”

“Lenny, if you want to know if you can be a good man, you’re not going to find that out continuing to hang around with more criminals and deadbeats. You need good people in your life.”

He huffed again. “Know that from experience, do you?” he demanded, roughly. He didn’t mean to sound angry but his frustration was getting the better of him.

“You’re not the only one who did some thinking after dad,” she told him, bluntly and he paused. He’d been so caught up in his own problems he hadn’t considered how it might have affected Lisa. He thought she’d just be relieved.

“Tell me,” he asked, more gently.

She looked down. “I remember sitting there with a bloodied mark on my neck where a bomb had just been sucked out, by a weapon Cisco had improvised in the space of an hour. And I thought, it could have ended a lot differently. And if it had ended then, what had I done with my life that was worth a damn of anything?

“You and Mick are the only two people in the world I’m close too. Everyone else I know is either a criminal or works for a criminal or is friends with other criminals. There was no one that was going to give a damn if I was dead apart from you. I wanted more good in my life.”

“That’s why you started chasing Ramon,” he surmised.

She smiled, and it had a warmth he’d rarely seen on her face. “They’re good people, Lenny. Just the sort we need.”

Len had never considered that he ever needed anyone. He certainly wanted Barry, did he need him as well? And sure, he might be good for Len but was Len any good for him?

“It’s too complicated,” he murmured, the frustration rising again no matter how much he was trying to keep it in check.

“Like I said before, you’ve never found anything worth complicated. But is Barry worth it?”

He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the bedhead. “Yes,” he breathed.

“Then it really isn’t so complicated,” she told him. “You know what you want, go get it. You’ve never failed to get what you want.”

“What I’ve wanted has never relied on the feelings of another person,” he replied quietly, stroking a hand along her arm, more to comfort himself than her.

“The way Barry was looking at you today and clinging to your neck – that wasn’t just relief at being rescued, Lenny. You don’t have to worry about his feelings.”

“But for how long?” he demanded then, feeling his frustration bubbling to the surface. “How long before he works out I have no idea what I’m doing?”

She giggled. “Sweetie, when it comes to love none of us know what we’re doing. You just make it up as you go along. And if it makes you feel better, Barry’s probably thinking the same things right now.”

That gave him no comfort, that he’d somehow made Barry feel as conflicted as he did at this moment. He sighed and kissed her hair quickly, an acknowledgement that he appreciated her efforts, even if they didn’t help him right now. “I better go greet Bryan and Stan. They need a little introduction to what’s going to happen here.”

The smile fell from her face and she nodded, releasing him.

“Make sure you stay upstairs,” he said.

He’d never liked Lisa being around to see the worst of his behaviour when it came to his anger. He would never hurt _her_ but he didn’t want her to see those aspects of himself he’d always associated with their father, especially the ones Lewis had helped foster through years of abuse and ‘lessons’ perpetrated against unruly crewmates Len had been forced to watch.

“And here,” he handed her the flash drive that West had brought into the Cortex before the rescue mission. The information was irrelevant at the time but Len knew he’d need it later, so he’d palmed the drive while West wasn’t looking. “Take a look at this for me. Might be helpful now.”

She took it with a confused frown and nodded, leaving him alone.

He climbed off the bed and prepared himself to deal with his captives, pushing his feelings for Barry down and away until there was only cold action left. He would contemplate his feelings later.

 

Fifteen minutes later he returned from the basement, his captives briefed on their situation and suitably terrified. Lisa was sitting at the kitchen bench staring at a laptop that had some sort of video running.

“Come look,” she told him, gesturing for him to join her.

“What have you got?”

“Security and interview footage from CCPD,” she told him.

“Of who?”

“Watch,” she told him.

The new high definition video capture that CCPD had put in place the last year clearly showed the equipment cages at the central precinct. There were standard metal racks of boxes and locked cages of high calibre weapons and body armour for SWAT teams. The officer standing at the desk was a man in his early thirties, with short dark hair and large red birthmark along his left jaw. It stood out to Len because it was so unusual, looking like a crescent moon shape that followed the line of the man’s jawbone. He knew he’d seen it before and closed his eyes, thinking back. It couldn’t be a criminal he’d known, they’d never be allowed to be a cop. It had to be somewhere else he knew this guy from.

“Beaufort,” he said suddenly, opening his eyes. “Umm…Dan…Danny…”

“Daniel,” Lisa told him, pausing the video and looking up at him. “It’s in the next set of footage. You know him?”

Len frowned but nodded. “Don’t suppose you’d remember, you were only about six at the time.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“My first time out of juvie we were placed with the Beaufort’s as our foster family. Danny was only about three at the time. Cute kid, liked to climb on everything. The birthmark’s unmistakable.”

“Were they -?” she started but then didn’t finish. There had been quite a few foster families for them over the years, Lisa had a poor view of all of them, never having felt like she fit anywhere.

“They were some of the good ones. They doted on you ‘cause they only had two boys of their own and wanted a girl. Surprised you don’t remember.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” she replied, quietly.

He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and leant down to click on the video again. It only took a few more moments before a large man in a suit appeared at the desk, handing over some paperwork. Len noticed he was strategically turned away from the camera as he leant casually against the counter. There was no audio but Len could see they were having some sort of conversation. Officer Beaufort handed over the three sets of dampening cuffs and had the man sign a piece of paper. 

The video then changed to a police integration room, where West and Singh were sitting across the table from Beaufort, asking him about the man and what he’d wanted the cuffs for.

“Look at the paperwork,” Beaufort was begging, looking distressed. “It was all right and proper. Even had the correct signatures on it. I thought I was just doing my job.”

The interview went on and on, West and Singh asking the same questions again and again in an attempt to get the man to slip up but he always had the same answers. Eventually they gave up in frustration but it was as clear to them as to Len that the man was lying. Len frowned and crossed his arms. Perhaps someone else would have better luck talking to him.

 

Officer Daniel Beaufort climbed out of his car and walked up the drive to his front door, more than happy his work day was over and he had the chance to spend some time with his wife and their new son, James. The little boy was only three weeks old and Daniel was still in awe of the precious second gift the world had decided to bless him with. He fumbled with his keys a moment and then opened the front door, looking forward to a cold beer and a cuddle with his new bundle. The sight that greeted him made his heart stop.  He closed the door as an automatic movement, his gaze fixed on the people in his living room. His wife Nancy was sitting on the sofa, looking tired and worn as a new mother would but her expression was drawn tighter by nerves. Her eyes silently begged his help, even as Leonard Snart turned to greet him.

“Ah, Officer Beaufort, nice to see you’re home.” He smiled down at the baby in his arms, shushing him quietly as the child grizzled. “We have a few things to talk about.”

Daniel dropped the backpack he was carrying, his legs feeling like they were about to give out at the knees.

“Do come and sit down with Nancy, she could use your support right about now,” Snart continued, gesturing with one arm for Daniel to join his wife on the lounge, while he bounced the other up and down gently to soothe the increasingly fussy baby.

Daniel took in the other man. He was in a pair of black skinny jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. What really drew Daniel’s attention though was the Cold Gun at his hip. Snart was making no moves to touch it but Daniel could tell from the fixed smile that it was going to be drawn if Daniel didn’t comply soon. With a deep breath he made his way across to his wife, who took his hand tight, nearly pulling him down onto the sofa next to her.

“SNAP!” squealed a high-pitched voice and Nancy jumped violently, gripping his hand even tighter.

“Ah, you’re too fast for me kid,” came a deep gruff voice.

From his seat on the sofa Daniel could see the huge bulk of Mick Rory perched on the edge of a tiny chair. Daniel’s four year-old daughter Amy was giggling gleefully from the opposite chair as they played cards at the tea table they’d bought her for Christmas two years ago. Rory’s knees were nearly up round his ears the chair was so small but he looked unperturbed while dealing out for another round of Snap. The Heat Gun was on the floor at his feet.

Daniel swallowed hard. “What – what do you want?”

Snart was still smiling in a knowing way that had Daniel’s stomach twisting. “As you can imagine for a man like me true friends are few and far between.” he began. “But I’ve recently had the good fortune to make a few in the metahuman community, Daniel.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”  he demanded, although he was pretty sure where the man was going with this already.

Little James began to cry and Nancy began to rise from the lounge but Snart raised a hand to stop her. “It’s fine,” he said. “I can tell he just needs to be changed.”

“Please,” Nancy begged. “Please, let me do it.”

“No need, I’m an old hand at diaper changing. Used to do it for my sister all the time,” Snart replied, taking the little boy to the nearby change table and laying him smoothly on the padded surface. Daniel watched the man quickly undress his son with agile fingers that undid snaps and buttons without any of the difficulties Daniel himself still suffered when trying to wrangle the fragile wriggling boy.

“So,” Snart continued, pulling wet wipes from the container and wiping the child’s bottom. “You can imagine how shocked and dismayed I was when I discovered that someone had stolen several sets of STAR Labs metahuman dampening cuffs from the equipment store at CCPD.”

From the corner of his eye Daniel saw Nancy turn a heated glare at him as she started to understand what Captain Cold and Heatwave were doing in their house. He then watched in dismay as Amy abandoned Rory and picked up her chair and went to the change table with Snart. She adored her new little brother and always wanted to help out when she could. She dropped the chair against the change table and stood on it so she could reach.

“Don’t forget the powder,” she said, handing Snart the tin of talc.

“Why don’t you do the honours,” the criminal replied. Amy held out her hand and he puffed a small amount onto her hand, then held James’ legs up so she could smear it roughly all over his bottom. “You’re a good big sister.”

Amy beamed at the praise and then climbed down and went back to her game with Rory. Daniel shuddered and looked back at Snart, who was now placing a fresh diaper under his son.

“Now, I’ve seen the security footage of the man pretending to be a detective and you handing him over the cuffs. I’ve also seen the interview of you telling your fellow officers you thought he had the correct credentials and paperwork.” Snart completed his task by dressing the little boy again and wrapping him tight so he felt secure before sliding a hand under his head and lifting him back into his arms. “But you see Daniel, I’ve spent too many years around thieves and liars. I know one when I see one.  So, it was easy for me to see that you were lying to the detectives interviewing you, even if they had no evidence to say otherwise. Do you understand what I’m saying Daniel?”

“SNAP!” Amy shrieked again and this time it was Daniel’s turn to jump.

Snart smirked at his reaction and turned to Rory and the little girl. “Perhaps something a little quieter guys,” he suggested. “It’s time for James to have a nap.”

“Do you play Go Fish?” she asked, in hushed tones then.

“I think I remember how,” Rory answered, with a grin.

Amy started dealing out cards.

“So, for the sake of my metahuman friends who may be on the receiving end of those cuffs, I want you to tell me who you sold them to.” Snart was rocking back and forth through his hips gently, all the while patting James’ bottom with a steady rhythm, like he was an experienced father.

“I don’t know,” Daniel told him.

Snart’s face became less friendly and more stern. It was enough to have Daniel trembling.

“Seriously, Snart,” he told him. “He never gave me a name, just a price he was willing to pay and a plan for when the guy would show up.”

“Was it the same guy?”

“No, the voice on the line had an accent, Italian, maybe Spanish. The guy I met in the equipment cage was American.”

“How much did he offer you?”

“Fifty thousand.”

“What?” Nancy cried in shock.

“We’re not exactly rolling in it here, Nance,” Daniel told her. “We want the kids to go to college in twenty years we’re going to need a jump start. I thought this was the easiest way to do it. No one was going to get hurt, at least no one we cared about.”

“But those cuffs in the hands of criminals!” Nancy cried.

“Most metas are criminals,” Daniel retorted but then remembered what Snart had just said about having meta friends.

“They’ve already been used against the Flash,” Snart told him, still rocking his son to sleep.

Daniel sat up. “What?” When?”

“Recently,” was all the man replied. “It’s why this is so important to the police and to me.”

“Why is it important to you?” Nancy asked, looking confused.

“The Flash and I have a working relationship,” Snart told her with a small shrug, trying not to disturb the baby. “I steal things, he tries to stop me, it’s a game we play. But we can’t play if he’s locked up in a pair of those cuffs without his speed. So, I want to know where those cuffs went and get them out of the hands of people who could interfere with my fun. I need to know everything you can tell me about the man you sold these too and where I can find him.”

Daniel sighed and shook his head. “Look Snart, the guy only ever contacted me by phone and then he had me pick up the money in a suitcase from the bus locker at the central depot.”

“Did he give you a number to call?”

“No, he always called me.”

“How long ago was the drop for the money?”

“Four days.”

Snart nodded, still rocking slowly as he thought through something. “Write down the locker number and the date and time he told you to pick it up.”

“Yeah, sure.” Daniel was already scrambling for the small pad and pen he kept in his back pocket like all good policemen.

“Did he ever say what he wanted them for?”

Daniel shook his head, tearing out the page with the information on it. “Not specifically, but he did say he wanted them in order to expand his business. I got the feeling he was some sort of weapons dealer, looking for a new angle.”

“Arms dealers,” Nancy muttered looking even more angry and annoyed.

Snart looked down at the baby in his arms, a small pleased smile gracing his features for a moment.

“Snart, you gonna tell the cops about this?”

“I’m a criminal Daniel, why would I do that?” the man replied with a smirk. “I’d say you need to be more worried about me than about losing your job.”

Daniel swallowed, his heartrate pounding harder. He had his sidearm. He’d just have to be quick. But then Snart had his son, there was no way he was going to be able to shoot him with James in the way.

“I’m going to do you a favour, Daniel,” Snart said, then.

“Which is?”

“I’m going to give you another fifty thousand and tomorrow you’re going to apply for a transfer – to any other city but here or Keystone.”

Daniel blinked. “What? Why?”

“You’re a good man Daniel, you just got a little side-tracked by this whole money thing,” he waved a hand as if money were unimportant. “Another fifty put in good investments will make for a nice college fund for your kids.” He expression turned serious. “But you can’t stay here. Now that one bad egg has found you it won’t be long before others try to corrupt you further. For the sake of the fact your parents were good to me when I was a kid, I’d like to make sure that temptation is taken away from you.”

“So, you’re telling me to get out of Central?”

“And never come back,” Snart’s eyes were narrow and fierce as he said it but then the next moment he smiled happily and held out the baby to Daniel.

Daniel leapt off the sofa to take him but Snart leant down, kissing James on the forehead before handing him over. Daniel quickly tucked the boy into the crook of his arm. The child was sound asleep.

“Nice to know I haven’t lost my touch,” Snart murmured quietly, reaching out to stroke a hand over the baby’s downy hair.

That hand then came to rest on Daniel’s shoulder, the grip quickly becoming painful. “Look at me,” Snart said softly, and Daniel stared into the icy blue eyes that were gazing back, serious and hard. “Look at what becomes of bad cops’ sons and decide what kind of child you want to raise, Daniel.”

Officer Beaufort nodded quickly and Snart released him.

“Mick,” he called, quietly.

Rory stood instantly, retrieving his gun and holstering it. “Thanks for the game kid,” he growled good-naturedly at Amy.

Amy stood and wrapped arms around one of his huge thighs. “It was nice to meet you Mick,” she said politely as they’d taught her. She was smiling up at the thug and he grinned back, placing a huge meaty paw on her head.

“Nice to meet you too,” he replied. Amy let go of him and he followed Snart to the door. “Good kid you got there,” was all he said by way of goodbye as he brushed passed Daniel.

The two men were out the door and gone without another word or look back. Daniel collapsed back onto the lounge as Nancy scooped Amy up and they all sat together, clinging to the kids just to make sure they really had suffered no ill effects from the two criminals.

“Will your friends come back another day?” Amy asked after a few quiet minutes.

“What pumpkin?”  Daniel asked, absently, still looking down at James as if Snart may have attached a bomb to him somewhere.

“Will your friends be back? I liked Mick, can we see him again soon?”

Daniel turned to his wife. “Pack the bags, we’re getting out of Central tonight.”

 

Two days later Barry was still on the gurney in the med suite.  He stared at the ceiling, hands behind his head wondering again at the tale that was his rescue. He’d known from the moment he’d woken up in the warehouse that Len would come for him. If not for Barry himself then at least for the sake of his reputation, he knew Len wouldn’t let it stand. What he was still having trouble getting his head around was how readily he’d come to Joe and STAR Labs, and how smoothly he’d fit into working with the team. The way Caitlin and Cisco described it he had taken control from the first with a natural leadership. He’d weighed his resources and used them effectively but he hadn’t steamrolled over anyone to get what he wanted. He was immensely proud of the thief and the abilities he displayed that could so easily be used for other lines of work.

And the way he’d dealt with that meta. Three quick moves, ice, distractors and tranquilizer in short order as if he’d planned it that way and not been surprised by the strongman’s appearance. Barry was in awe of his quick thinking and execution. And the way he’d looked after Barry, taking precious minutes out of his planned schedule to make sure he was at least able to function, when he could just as easily have kept carrying him all the way to safety, in those warm, strong arms -. No! No thinking about that. That would lead to another set of thoughts that weren’t so pleasant and he didn’t want that at this time of night.

He had to admit he was more than well enough to get up and move now. He’d feinted extra pain and exhaustion to be able to stay in bed and also so he could have some peace from the inevitable talking to Joe was going to give him. But his watch told him it was nearly six o’clock, when Joe was due to make his nightly visit before he went home. Barry was wondering if he could make it out of STAR Labs before he got there and put off the meeting just a few more hours, when the detective entered the Cortex, looking tired and drawn.  Barry frowned, wondering what had Joe looking like that. His conversation the last couple of days had been about Wally and the latest postcard he’d got from Iris, neither of which had contained anything that might be keeping his foster father up at night.

Barry sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the gurney as Joe entered the room. “Joe, you okay?”

“Not really, no,” the man replied, quickly. Too quickly and Barry instantly knew whatever it was, it was Barry’s fault.

Caitlin came in to take her latest round of obs on Barry.

“Hey, Joe,” she greeted him with a warm smile.

Joe nodded to her but looked back at Barry. “You ready to talk about the last couple of days?”

Barry shrugged. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Let’s start with how the hell it happened in the first place?” Joe demanded.

Barry closed his eyes, running his hands over his face. Caitlin made a grumpy noise as she was trying to put the blood pressure strap on his arm at the time.

“At Eddie’s buck’s night his brother was being a dick.”

“How?”

Barry stared at him. “He was all hands, Joe. On me,” Barry added when Joe failed to get the message.

Joe looked shocked. “You mean he -?”

Barry nodded. “Yeeesss.” He paused while Caitlin flicked a light in his eyes to check his pupil response.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” she said as she recorded something on her tablet. “Jay said he made a pass at him at the wedding. But then, so did Linda Park.”

“Yeah,” Barry said with a disgruntled huff. “Guy likes to keep his options open.”

Joe was looking confused. “Okay, so Reggie made a pass at you and -.”

“And I knew I couldn’t just say no – if he got super offended it would have made the wedding difficult. So, I tried to disappear into the crowd but the guy was persistent.  He followed me until I literally ran into Snart. He hid me behind him until we got outside and then I don’t know, we just got talking as we walked down the street. Then Blackmore and a couple of cronies turned up talking about Wilks wanting to teach Snart a lesson. There was a fight, we won. I thought that was the end of it.”

“And you didn’t mention any of this to us because -?” Joe asked.

Barry noticed Cisco had arrived, leaning against the doorframe, twirling a screwdriver in his hands as he listened. Great, someone else to know all the details. “Because there was no point. I wasn’t hurt, Snart was alright and if I had told you, it would have got back to Iris and then to Eddie and made everything just as difficult.”

“What keeps nagging at me is why they thought you were Snart’s boyfriend?”  Caitlin asked, and Joe pointed at her while looking at Barry as if to say, _‘That’s a good question’_.

“Snart told me to go but it was three against one, I wasn’t about to leave him to deal with that.”

“Why not?” Joe asked pointedly, as if that were even an option.

Barry glared at him. “As I said at the time, I’ve put too much work into him to see him murdered in an alley. To which Snart replied something about loving how much I care about him. He was being _totally_ sarcastic but somehow Blackmore missed it and thought we were being genuine with each other. So, Wilks must have had his men follow me from then on until they found out who I was and how they could use me against Snart. That’s it okay. End of story.”

“No, that’s far from the end,” Joe told him then. “Where the hell did all that crap in the warehouse come from – about tearing pieces out of Blackmore?  That ain’t you Barry.”

So that was what was really worrying Joe. Barry’s behaviour at the warehouse. 

“Actually, I got that by looking at Cisco,” Barry admitted, looking at the ground.

“Me?” Cisco exclaimed, looking offended. “When have I ever discussed pulling out bits of people’s anatomy?”

“Not you! Princess Bride,” Barry told him.

Cisco frowned and then grinned at the reference. “Oh yeah, Westley detailing to Humperdinck how he’s going to mutilate him when really he doesn’t have the strength to get off the bed so he’s just stalling!”

“I don’t care where it came from,” Joe snapped. “You don’t go around making those kinds of threats.”

 “Oh, come on Joe, you know I’d never have done any of that stuff,” Barry snarled. “I was just saying it to scare him.”

“Do I?” Joe questioned, looking tormented. “The young man I saw at the warehouse is nothing like the young man I raised.”

“He’s right about that, man,” Cisco said then, looking uncomfortable. “That whole vibrating hand thing – real Reverse Flash move right there.”

Barry leapt off the table, startling Caitlin into taking a step back. “What, I’m not allowed to be angry at having my powers taken away? About being kidnapped and beaten to a pulp?  About almost being -?” He put his face in his hands. This was what he’d really been avoiding talking about, what he’d wanted to just keep hidden. Nobody needed to know and now he’d just blurted it out.

“Dude, did they try to kill you?”  Cisco asked, looking horrified.

Barry swallowed hard around the lump in his throat.  “No,” he choked out.

Realisation seemed to come to Joe first, and when it did the shock and disgust on his face was like a knife twisting in Barry’s gut. Not knowing what else to do he ran, speed changing into the suit and disappearing from the Cortex.  He heard Caitlin’s call for him to come back but he ignored her, his head suddenly full of memories of that night in the warehouse.

Blackmore had been bored watching him and had decided to have some fun. He’s taken his clothes off, his hands groping in disgusting fashion at Barry’s body as he removed the individual pieces. He’d made the video to send Len and then -.

It all came in flashes of images and sounds.

_The scream of agony that escaped him as Blackmore turned him over, rolling his damaged legs and twisting his torso with its broken ribs._

_The burning pain in his shoulders as Blackmore kept the cuffs on the hook while he pulled Barry’s hips up so he was on his knees, arms pulled above and in front of him._

_The harsh slap across the back of his head as he tried to pull away from the kidnapper._

_Bryan quavering and chewing his fingernails in the corner while looking horrified._

_The feel of Blackmore’s burning hot hands on Barry’s icy skin as he pulled his underwear down and squeezed his buttocks._

_The muttering and laughing of the other guards as they watched Blackmore amusing himself._

_Blackmore’s disgusting language as he described what he was going to do to him, while running hot hands up his inside thighs._

_The calls and comments from the guards, giving Blackmore vile suggestions of what to do with Snart’s_ twink _._

_The heavy dull weight along the line of Barry’s arse that made him swear and curse at his attacker before another harsh slap._

_Bryan’s voice pleading and begging Blackmore to give up before Wilks or Snart found out and they both got in trouble_

_The bruising slap on his arse as Blackmore gave up in disgust, finally moved by Bryan’s arguments._

There had to be a way to get away from the memories and so Barry just kept running, wanting only to have the Speed Force and the wind in his thoughts as he raced through the city. He ran through the night before finally returning to STAR Labs in the early hours of the morning.  Barry staggered into the darkened Cortex, barely able to switch on the lights before he collapsed in a chair. He’d finally managed to outrun the memories but he knew they’d be back. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his heartbeat and his laboured breathing, trying his best to return his body to a normal resting rate. After a while he was on the verge of falling asleep and only roused himself when he almost toppled from the chair. He quickly downed one of Cisco’s energy bars, changed out of the suit and then went into the med suite, thinking to sleep on one of the gurneys when he stopped himself.

No doubt the others would arrive in the morning wanting him to talk about it. That was the last thing he wanted. Neither did he want to have a similar conversation with Joe at home tomorrow morning, especially since he’d told work he’d be off another day yet. He looked around, frustrated and exhausted. His eyes fell on Len’s parka. It had been discarded over the back of a chair when he’d arrived back at the Labs, and he’d been gazing at it on and off for the past couple of days wondering how to return it to him. There was only one place he knew that Snart might be found so he decided to go there – back to the safehouse where he’d taken Barry the first time he’d been beaten up. Shrugging into the parka Barry sped out of the Labs.

When he arrived in the street he stopped in front of the apartment building. All the windows were dark except for one on the ground floor so he sped through the entrance and up to the third floor, phasing through the door to what had been a brief haven.  He knew it had been empty, as he’d checked it the day after the wedding looking for the thief but he was disappointed to find it was still unoccupied. The lights from the city outside provided just enough dull illumination for him to see as he wandered the unadorned rooms feeling lost.

What was wrong with his life, with he himself, if he couldn’t talk to his family and friends about this? Perhaps it was just still too fresh in his mind. Maybe if he gave it a week or two he’d be able to talk about it then. But right now, he just felt too ashamed and too weak to want to talk to anyone about it.  He realised he didn’t even want to be around people. He sat on the edge of the bed in Len’s room. It was only a bare mattress now with two pillows tossed roughly on top. He pulled out his phone, sure there would be a mountain of texts and voice messages. He was correct.  Everyone had called at least twice and there were more texts from Joe asking him to call back as soon as he could. He simply texted them back that he was taking his day off tomorrow to think about a few things and he’d see them the following day as normal, and he definitely didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. After that he turned his phone off and collapsed on his back on the bed.

As he did so the hood of the parka fell back to, the fur edge surrounding his head. He was instantly surrounded by the smell of Leonard Snart.  His sweat, the light aftershave he wore, the leather from his biker jacket, everything that Barry was used to associating with the thief. He drew the fur edge in on both sides, taking a deep breath, feeling strangely comforted. He rolled over and crawled up the bed, pulling one of the pillows tight under his head, the hood falling over his face and he fell asleep to Len’s smell.

 

Len sat back with a disappointed sigh.  For a man who made his living beating people up, Stan Blackmore had an incredibly low pain threshold. This was the third time he’d passed out in an hour and Len was growing bored with having to wait for him to wake up between each breakage.

He had managed to get some useful information out of him but it was going too slowly. Stan had admitted that he’d bought the cuffs from Andy Hearn a local weapons dealer. It didn’t make sense to Len why Andy would have them though. He specialised in selling hand guns to thugs and gang members, not someone who dealt in anything high tech or that expensive. So far Stan hadn’t admitted to knowing where Andy got them. Maybe Stan truly didn’t know but Len could get to the bottom of that a lot faster if the man didn’t keep falling unconscious. He was seriously considering giving him a mild local anaesthetic, so he could just keep breaking his fingers and let the man deal with the worst of the pain at the end. But somehow that didn’t feel like honouring Barry’s suffering.

The door at the top of the stairs opened and Lisa trod the rickety steps carefully down into the basement.

“Told you I didn’t want to be disturbed,” Len said, looking around at her. She was in her nightdress, a skimpy little satin number. Her hair was loose, her makeup removed, as if she was getting ready for bed.

“Text Lenny,” she said, holding out her own phone.

He frowned, taking it from her.  It was from Ramon.

_Get your brother to call Joe asap.  It’s super important.  About Barry_

Len pulled his own phone from his pocket and was on a call to West in moments.

“Detective, you wanted to talk?”

He listened to what the officer had to say, his expression becoming darker and darker as the man spoke, his gaze falling back on the unconscious kidnapper as he nodded.

“I’ll get you all the information you need, detective,” Len replied with a smile. “I’m sure our friend Stan will be most helpful.” He paused to listen again. “No detective, I won’t kill him. As Barry said, that would be too merciful.”  He hung up.

“What is it, Lenny?” Lisa asked. “What’s happened to Barry?”

“Worried about Scarlet, are you?”  he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she demanded. “He’s one of the good ones, remember.”

Len kissed her forehead, wrapping an arm around her. “Stan here did a little more than just watch Barry until we rescued him. It would seem he took certain liberties he shouldn’t have.”

Lisa hissed a sharp intake of breath. “How’s Barry?”

“No one knows. Kid’s run off. West wants to know just how far Blackmore got, since Barry is refusing to talk about it. Thinks it might help in the long run.”

“Or make things worse for the kid,” Lisa said, looking at the man tied in the chair.

“I’ll make sure they only hear what they need too and no more.”

Lisa hugged him back tight. “I know you’ll take care of him.”

Blackmore started to stir. 

“Head back upstairs, sis. You won’t want to hear this.”

She nodded, casting a black glare at the man in the chair before retreating back to bed.

Len moved to a table on the far side of the basement. Normally it would have been covered with blueprints and plans for his next heist. Right now, a number of medical instruments and vials were laid out in operating theatre precision, waiting for use. He picked up a syringe and vial, pulling a suitable dose before turning back to Stan, who was now looking at him with blurry eyes and a terrified expression.

“Now Stan,” he said, sitting in the office chair in front of him and wheeled himself close to his prisoner. He took a disinfectant wipe and smoothed across the back of his hand, causing the man to let out a hiss of pain as Len cleansed already broken bones.

“I’ve just had a call from a distressed father, telling me that his little boy wasn’t just physically damaged by your recent behaviour, it also seems he’s suffered some emotional trauma from your, shall we say, ‘attentions’.”

“Snart, I never – aah!” Blackmore winced as Len injected his already damaged right hand with the needle. “What – what are you giving me?”

“Just a local, to keep the pain down for you,” Len told him with a grim smile. “You were saying?”

“I didn’t do anything to the kid, I swear,” Blackmore told him, groaning again as Len pricked his hand with the syringe again.

“You know I still have Bryan here, right? All I have to do is ask him and he’ll tell me everything.”

“I swear!” Blackmore cried, seeing the black look in Len’s eyes. “I wanted to – I was going too but Bryan talked me out of it.”

Len rolled the chair over to the table, replaced the now empty needle and picked up the small hammer he’d had before. Blackmore quailed and began pulling futilely at his bonds.

“Please Snart, please, I didn’t do anything!”

“The word I’ve heard is ‘almost’, Stan,” Len told him, the hammer taking up position over an unbroken finger bone. “I want you to tell me exactly how close ‘almost’ is.” He smiled at the man. “On the understanding that I don’t like people touching my stuff.”

Blackmore burst into tears.

Mick Rory was snoring peacefully in the armchair in the lounge room when he was startled awake by an agonised scream. He looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. Bryan was struggling in his bonds looking startled and terrified but Mick could see he wasn’t going anywhere. The scream came again and he listened carefully taking note that it belonged to neither Len or Lisa but was familiar enough to him now that he’d been hearing it on and off for the last couple of hours. With a shrug he readjusted his position in the chair and promptly went back to sleep.

 

Lisa groaned and rolled over, reaching out in the dark to the bedside table where her phone was currently chiming out the Imperial March from Star Wars. Cisco had made it his ring tone on her phone, until he found something more suitable, he said. Sitting up she noticed the time was one thirty. She frowned as she answered, wondering what he could possibly be calling about at this time of night.

“Cisco?” she asked, without her usual flirtatious tone. It was way too late…early…whatever.

“Ah, hey,” he replied, sounding tentative. She immediately picked up the quaver in his voice, sitting up.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“Um, I was wondering if you’re free right now?” he asked, sounding for all the world like he knew it was early morning and he would definitely have woken her.

“I’m always free for you, Cisco,” she said, stifling a yawn. “What can I do for you?”

“Um, I was like wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, would you…maybe be able to…you know like, come ‘round to my place,” he babbled, sounding so uncertain she sat up straighter.

“What’s up?”

“It’s just, I had a really bad dream and I’ve been trying to get back to sleep but it keeps playing through my head and I can’t seem to get rid of it.” His voice was shaking. Lisa knew that tone, she’d made it enough times in her life to know what it meant.

“I’ll be right there, sweetie, give me twenty okay?”

“Yeah, sure, um, thanks Lisa, I-,”

“We’ll talk when I get there,” she told him, gently. “Fire up the hot chocolate and Twizzlers.”

She could hear the slight smile in his voice as he replied, “Yeah, sure, see you soon.”

She was pulling on her bike jacket when she heard the sound of Lenny’s bedroom door opening. He came to stand at the end of the hall, still looking half asleep.

“What is it?” he demanded, looking grumpy.

She smiled. “Go back to bed brother, I’m off to console the sad.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“Jerk!”

“Trainwreck,” he muttered and went back to his room.

She smiled fondly at his retreating back, picked up the small backpack she had with her and headed out.

It was a grateful looking Cisco Ramon who opened the door to his apartment some time later. He was dressed in a pair of old sweat pants and one of his novelty t-shirts that had seen better days, faded and with a few holes. Lisa’s breath hitched at the red-rimmed eyes and the dishevelled hair but he was smiling at her like she was his lifeline and she stepped inside quickly, closing the door so she could pull him into a hug. He wrapped arms around her chest so tight her ribs were squeezed but he let go of her soon enough.

“Ah, hey, glad you could come so quick. I -.”

She put a finger to his lips to still any awkward babbling. “Go get me a hair brush and meet me back at the sofa.”

He frowned, confused. “What? You’re hair’s perfect. Why do you -?”

She put a finger under his chin, leaning down to kissed him gently, cutting off any further comment. “I’m here to help, get me what I asked for.”

“Okay,” he muttered, turning away and muttering more to himself about how confused he was, disappearing down the short hall towards his bathroom.

She was seated on the sofa when he came back. She’d kicked off her shoes and removed her jacket and was lounging comfortably back. She’d moved the coffee table out of the way, so there was a nice space in front of her, and she motioned for him to sit on the floor between her legs.

“What’s going on?” Cisco asked, as he moved to comply, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the sofa.

She snatched the hairbrush from him and pulled him back, as she sat forward, beginning to brush his long dark hair with slow delicate strokes. She’d wanted to get her hands in Cisco’s hair for the longest time and now was the perfect opportunity. It was so unbelievably dense, each strand thick as wire but so soft, it ran through Lisa’s fingers like water. For a geek he had an excellent haircare regime.

“Tell me what’s keeping you up at night, sweetie,” she said, her fingers brushed against the side of his neck as she pulled the tresses back towards the brush, smiling as the young engineer shivered.

“Ah, just memories of things that never happened, I guess,” he said, sounding like he wasn't quite sure what he was saying.

“You’ll need to explain that to me,” she told him, running her fingers over his scalp, causing a sharp intake of breath through his nose.

“Well, you know Barry can Time travel, yeah?”

“What, without any sort of machine?” she demanded.

He nodded.

“No, I didn’t know that,” she told him, taken by surprise. The Flash was fast certainly, but fast enough to move through Time? That was beyond anything she’d ever thought possible for the young man who was currently stealing her brother’s heart.

“Well he did it for the first time by accident last year,” Cisco told her. “But he only went back one day and managed to change some horrible things that went wrong on a really horrible day.”

“Okay,” she said, pulling the brush through until it hit a snag and she paused to work it out.

“One of those things -,” he paused and she heard him swallow. “Was Reverse Flash killing me.”

Lisa stopped, her breath catching in her throat. “Okay,” was all she could think to say. Cisco would be dead if not for Barry and an accident?

“But for some reason I can still remember the whole thing, even though it’s a timeline that never existed anymore.”

“And you keep remembering that moment,” Lisa stated, well aware of her mind’s own ability to replay the shitty events of her childhood regardless of her thoughts on them.

“Yeah,” he told her, his voice starting to shake a bit. “That terrible moment when Reverse Flash, in the shape of Harrison Wells, phased his vibrating hand through my chest and crushed my heart.”

“Like Barry did with that piece of wood today?”

He nodded. “It’s not the first time it’s happened. I’ve been having them pretty regularly, actually. Almost used to them now.”

Lisa closed her eyes a moment, knowing all too well what it was like to be disturbed by nightmares so often you could shrug them off. The sound of Len’s screams as Lewis beat him again and again while she hid in the cupboard still haunted her far too often. “So, what was different about this one?”

“Reverse Flash basically trained Barry, he needed him to get faster so he could get home and he sucked Barry - sucked all of us - into thinking he was someone he wasn't – a mentor we could all look up too.” Cisco said, a shudder of fear running through him. Lisa stopped brushing and squeezed his shoulder. “So, there was Barry, in my head tonight, sticking his hand in my chest with Reverse Flash standing behind him telling him what an able student he was and how proud he was of what he’d become. It’s never been like that before.”

“You think it’s because you saw Barry like that at the warehouse?” She went back to gently pulling the brush through his hair.

“I guess. I mean I can’t think of any other reason for it.” His shoulders were much more relaxed now and his voice had lost its tremor. “I’ve never seen him like that – that angry.”

“It wasn’t anger sweetie, it was humiliation. Believe me, I’ve been in his position in the past and you want nothing more than to regain some of your power against your attacker. That’s what all the threats were for, just to let Stan know Barry wasn’t frightened of him anymore. We both know Barry would never do any of those things.”

Cisco turned his head to look at her. “You’ve been there?”

She smiled sadly. “A couple of times. Lenny always saved me but it helped to be able to get a little of my own back afterwards. Lenny was always good about giving me the chance to do that without letting me go too far.”

Cisco was frowning. “Not wanting to pry but also wanting to understand. Lisa are you saying you’ve been -?”

“Kidnapped? Yeah. A couple of times over the years. Lenny’s always found me. Even managed to escape once myself.” She gave him a bright triumphant smile.

He continued to look at her in concern, a question in his eyes. She smiled again.  “And to the other thing you’re thinking about, that’s a no. Been close a couple of times but never had to deal with that particular humiliation.” She ran fingers through his hair a few more times, pushing it back into shape. “There, gorgeous.”

He huffed out an amused breath and turned around, resting his back against the sofa between her legs. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressing her cheek to the top of his head.

“I just wonder if maybe this is the beginning of a slow downward spiral,” Cisco muttered more to himself than to her.

“Don’t think like that,” she told him, tightening her grip. “The reason we don’t fall into darkness is because we have people who love us to tell us when we go too far, pull us back from the edge.” She kissed his hair. “I’ve never seen any group of people more willing to do that for each other than Team Flash. Barry’s in good hands.”

“That seems far too optimistic for you, Sister Cold,” he muttered but looked up at her with a smile.

“If Lenny and I hadn’t had each other to make sure we didn’t fall, we could both have ended up like Lewis,” she told him. The she smiled, patting his shoulders. “Come on, back to bed, for both of us.”

“Woah, woah, wait a sec there,” Cisco said, turning around on the floor so he was facing her. “You’re thinking of staying?”

She smiled with a tilt of her head. “Only to sleep, sweetie. But if you don’t think you can, then I can always start braiding your hair. You seem to like someone playing with it.”

Cisco held up his hands, leaning away from her. “No, no. No braiding. I think I can sleep now.”

She stood up and drew him to his feet. “Come on then.” She started drawing the confused geek towards the bedroom, picking up the small backpack she’d brought with her that contained her pyjamas and toiletries.

 

                Petersburg Pawn was a relatively upmarket looking pawn brokerage that sat in amongst other respectable shops in the fashionable Central suburb. Len gazed at it as he pulled off his helmet and stowed it in the bike’s storage. Andy Hearn did alright for himself by the business, but he made his real money through the sale of guns and other weapons that he ran from a room out the back. Not that it was a massive business, but there was always someone looking for an untraceable weapon or something that wasn’t otherwise available. So, the margins were good, and the take was completely off the books and tax free.

                An old-fashioned bell tinkled above his head as he entered. There were only two people in the store, one who was looking at the TVs on the wall and the other who was trying to persuade Andy to take an old ring. Len could see it wasn’t worth much and the woman was begging Andy to give her just a little bit more in exchange. Len caught the eye of the middle-aged pawn broker and the man tried to hide a sigh of relief at his appearance.

                “If you’ll excuse me a moment,” he said to the woman. “I have a customer who has an appointment. I’ll be right back.”

                He gestured with a jerk of his head and Len followed him out into the back room.

                “Paul,” he said to the young man who was working at a computer. “Watch the shop for a few, will ya?”

                “Yeah, sure, Andy,” the kid said, leaping up to take his place out front.

                Andy unlocked the back door and took Len out into a large storeroom that was lower lit. There were shelves of other merchandise that wouldn’t fit out front and it looked for all the world like a normal storage room.

                “Long time no see, Snart,” Andy greeted him, finally. “Didn’t think I’d see you again, now you have your fancy Cold Gun.”

                Len grinned. “It’s useful but doesn’t handle every situation.”

                Andy gave him a knowing smile and nod. “What situation do you need to handle?”

                Len had thought long over how he’d ask Andy about the cuffs. Deciding he may need Andy’s help again in the future and not wanting to rouse the suspicions of this new weapons dealer, whoever he was, he’d chosen not to simply make demands as he had of officer Beaufort.  Instead, a short story and a purchase seemed the better choice this time around.

                “I’m trying to make some new friends,” he said, running a finger over a dusty Playstation. “But they can be difficult to pin down.”

                “Sounds like you need a net, Snart,” Andy grinned good-naturedly.

                Len smiled. “Let’s just say I’m looking for a way to keep them in one place while I make their acquaintance, ask them a few questions.”

                The pawn broker looked curious. “You putting together a crew for something, Snart?”

                “Now Andy, you know better than to ask questions like that,” Len told him, waggling a finger in his direction. “But I do need a few people with…particular…abilities.”

                “Are we talking the sort of abilities that can only be acquired through certain types of explosion?”

                Len smiled graciously, letting Andy know he got it. “Of course, those sorts of people have been known to be volatile and unpredictable.”

                “So, you need a way to…shall we say…negate that volatility?” Andy surmised.

                “Just until I’ve made my pitch,” Len assured him.

                “Of course,” Andy agreed with a thoughtful frown. “But why come to me? You know I only handle low end stuff.”

                “Word on the street is you’ve started handling business for a new player, Andy. Someone who handles the sort of stuff I’m interested in.”

                Andy scoffed. “Now what idiot would tell you that sort of nonsense?”

                “Stan Blackmore,” Len replied, simply.

                Andy grunted and rolled his eyes. “Oh, that idiot,” he muttered. “Stupid bastard was told not to open his mouth.”

                “Silence never was Stan’s strong point,” Len remarked, smoothly. _Although he’s getting better at it now,_ he didn’t bother to add.

                Andy sighed. “I trust you know how to keep your mouth shut, Snart,” Andy told him, gesturing for him to follow him to the back of the room. In the far corner was an old radio. Len frowned. It was a great heavy looking monstrosity that people used to gather around before the invention of television.

                “You know I’m the soul of discretion.”

                Andy turned the old-fashioned dial to a certain point and the whole front of the device swung open. Inside was a simple metal lined box with shelves and racks. It was empty except for two pairs of metahuman dampening cuffs. Andy reached in and grabbed a pair, handing them to Snart examine. They were definitely the real deal, Ramon would be appalled to see them sitting in a weapons dealer’s showroom. The key was taped to the side with a piece of masking tape. Let could only imagine Ramon’s outrage at the treatment of his babies.

                “Where did you get these?” Snart asked. It was a natural question and one any buyer would ask.

                “Don’t know where they came from, and it’s not my place to ask.”

                “That’s not like you Andy,” Len said, with a frown. “You’ve always been careful about what you handle.”

                “Not when it comes to this stuff,” he replied, looking a little uneasy. “My supplier doesn’t like the questions.”

                “Who is this new supplier, by the way?” Len asked, trying to make it sound casual.

                Andy shrugged. “He won’t give me a name. He says I have to prove my loyalty before I can be trusted with it. But he lets me call him Lord.”

                “As in yes my lord, no my lord?” Len demanded incredulous.

                Andy gave him an exasperated roll of the eyes and nodded.

                “Oui, that’s some sick shit.”

                “Yeah well, so far it’s only ever been over the phone and the rest is by bank transfer, so I have little enough contact it doesn’t make any difference to me what I call him.”

                “Why you taking this on, Andy?” Len asked then. “You seemed happy without going into other stuff.”

                Andy grimaced. “Health scare. Prostate cancer.” He held out a placating hand at Len’s surprised look. “They caught it early, I should be fine, but it got me thinking. I don’t want to be doing this all my life. Early retirement would be nice. So, a few years with some higher end stuff, sell the business and I should have enough to be comfortable into my old age.”

                Len nodded. “How much?” he asked, holding up the cuffs.

                “Ten thousand.”

                Len snorted. “Now Andy, I thought we were friends. Stan told me you only charged him five.”

                Andy grimaced and nodded. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

                Len chuckled. “Tell you what. You’ve been good to me in the past. I’ll give you seven per pair…and I’ll take both sets. My contribution to your retirement fund.”

                Andy grinned and nodded.

                He held up a finger. “And your discretion about who you sold them too.”

                 “Of course,” Andy told him. “You know I’m no blabbermouth.”

                The deal was done quickly after that and Len was leaving the pawn shop with a small cardboard box he stowed in his bike storage as he pulled out the helmet.

                Lord!? The guy had an inflated ego if he wanted to be given a title, that was for sure. Still, Len was curious as to who he was. A new player in town was always of interest to him. And a player who was looking to make a loss was something else entirely. What was with that? Something to ponder along with everything else. But right now, he had one more thing to do today. He looked at his watch. He had about three hours before visiting time was over. He better make the most of his time. He kicked the bike into motion and set off to Iron Heights.

 

                “Well now,” the corrections officer said with a smile. “Never thought to see you on this side of the glass, Snart.”

                “Hey, Jacobs,” Len greeted the long-time prison guard. “How are the kids?”

                “Oldest one starts college next year,” he said, with a smile. “Kid’s gonna bankrupt me.”

                “Isn’t that what they’re for?” Len asked, with a grin.

                “Beginning to think that,” the man answered. “Who ya here to see?”

                “Charlie Wilks,” Len replied, handing over his keys, phone and other personal effects before letting himself be searched by the other guard. Iron Heights had few long-term prison officers. The few who lasted more than a year or two were the ones who knew how to deal with criminals. Knew when to let them get away with things, knew when to press their authority. They were the ones who still respected the inmates as people rather than something less than human. Jacobs was one such. He was one of the few Len had any respect for.

                “Sign here for me,” the guy said handing over a clipboard with the requisite paperwork. Len did, then nodded to the guard as he made his way into the room, taking a seat at the glass to wait for the bank robber to be brought to him.

                It wasn’t long before Wilks was brought into the other side of the room. Len smiled in satisfaction at both black eyes and the cut high on his forehead that had stitches holding it together. One arm was heavily bandaged and the man limped as he made his painful way to the chair opposite Len.

                He picked up the phone so they could talk, waiting patiently for Wilks to do the same. “Did I come at a bad time, Charlie?” he asked, with a smirk.

                Wilks glowered at him. “What do you want Snart?”

                “Wanted to see if you got my message,” he replied, pleasantly.

                Wilks continued to look like he was trying to set Len on fire with his eyes. “It was received.”

                “Was it understood?”

                “It may have been a little vague.”

                Len’s expression became hard. “Do I have to make it clearer?”

                “Please…enlighten me.” Wilks sneered, seeming unmoved by the beating he’d received at the hands of other prisoners Len had paid.

                Len pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Guardian Self-Storage, Unit 265, Leawood facility. On Hold Storage, Unit 35, Lawrence Hills. Safety deposit box 1906, Central City Bank, Westminster Branch 13. Do you want me to go on, there are several more?”

                 The contemptuous expression had fallen from Wilks face to be replaced by something uncertain. “Where did you get those -?”

                “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that if you come near me or anyone I care about ever again, you’ll get out of prison to find your retirement fund non-existent.”

                “I won’t be in here forever, Snart,” Wilks told him recovering his anger. “There’ll always be more money to steal. We all know setbacks happen in this business.”

                Snart nodded, his eyes narrowing. Wilks was going out of his way to make this hard on both of them. He sighed, not having wanted to play the next card. It was a situation he had no desire to get in the middle of but if it meant keeping Barry safe and Wilks off his own back then so be it.

                “Interesting contents in that safe deposit box by the way,” Len told him, one side of his lips curling up in a half smile.

                Wilks gaped. “You’ve been in it?”

                “Well, what was the point of finding the addresses and then not looking into the details. You know what a thorough fellow I am.”

                Wilks recovered himself, his expression becoming a mask of blank calm. “Then you know there isn’t much of value in there.”

                “Cash wise, no,” Len replied smoothly. “But I came across that beautiful old pearl handled revolver you had stashed in there. Had to take it with me. It was just too lovely to leave.”

                Wilks expression didn’t change but his jaw clenched tight, the hand holding the receiver going white with tightness. He let out a forced huff of amusement. “What would you want that old thing for? I only keep it cause it belonged to my grandpa.”

                “That’s funny,” Len said, looking thoughtful. “’Cause I seem to remember a time when Joey Santini had that exact same type of gun. That was long before he was Don, of course. Used to like waving it under people’s noses when they pissed him off. Liked shooting people with it when they crossed him. How many murders could he go away for if that gun went to the police?”

                Wilks’ blank mask cracked slightly, creases forming around his eyes as the strain started to show.

                “Now that Joey is Don I bet he’d love to know where it’s been hiding all this time.” Len continued to smile. “If I remember correctly, you also worked as a thug for the Santinis for a while, didn’t you?”

                “That gun is the only thing keeping me alive, Snart!” Wilks finally broke, his tone suddenly desperate and pleading. “If they find out I no longer have it, I’ll never see the outside of Iron Heights.”

                “Well then it’s a good thing I have no intention of telling them I have it,” Len ran a finger along the edge of the table as if contemplating. “Unless -.”

                Wilks let out a huge sigh and thumped the table. “Alright, alright. Your little twink is off limits.”

                “And?” Len’s tone became harder.

                “And I won’t say anything about him, no one will know.”

                “And?” he demanded, harshly.

                “And we’re clear. I won’t come after money again. Okay? We good now?”

                Len continued to stroke the edge of the table, his eyes down as he counted out a good five seconds. “I’ll keep the gun, just to make sure you keep up your end. And you won’t tell anyone about that either.” He lifted his gaze and Wilks nodded with a surly expression.

                “But by all means, feel free to tell anyone who asks…I don’t like it when other people touch my stuff!”

                With Wilks wide-eyed surprise focussed on him through the glass Len hung up the phone and walked out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Len and Barry finally get it together and meet for dinner and conversation - and perhaps some other things as well.
> 
> (There will be lots of explicit sexual content in the next two chapters - you have been warned).


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Len finally get together in private to talk some things through and get closer than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a large amount of sexually explicit content in this chapter (and the next one) so you've been warned.

                Barry lay back on his bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what to do next.  It had been a week since his wounds had healed from the kidnapping. He’d gone back to work and Flash duty as normal, asking the others to give him his space and privacy when it came to what had happened. He’d talk when he was ready. They’d respected that so far, for which Barry was grateful. He’d had a few bad night’s sleep, with Blackmore haunting his dreams, but he’d been able to temper their effect. He had Len’s parka.

He’d been unable to leave it behind at the safehouse, deciding that somehow he was going to return it to him in person.  For the last week, whenever things got difficult for Barry, he would put it on and let Len comfort him back to peace, as if the man was there with his arms around him. And God, did Barry want his arms around him. It hurt, that even though Len was the reason Barry had been kidnapped and beaten, the thief had decided to now have nothing to do with him. There hadn’t been one call to ask after him, even from Lisa to Cisco and it had been troubling Barry why Len seemed determined to run from him whenever they got close to something.

He was tormented by the idea that Len now thought of him as a liability. That even the Flash could be kidnapped, his habits tracked so easily by enemies (if Oliver ever found out he only had one take off point from work he’d never hear the end of it), and his powers negated with such ease. It had to put Len in mind to distance himself from the speedster. Who wanted a superhero for a friend that could be so easily overcome? It hadn’t even taken the Cold Gun. Just Barry’s lack of attention and forethought.

And seriously, who would want to get romantically involved with someone as pathetic as Barry anyway? When he thought back over his actions at the warehouse he couldn’t think of anything he could have done to make himself look _more_ like a needy, desperate teenage girl! _You’re so warm, Len. I want to stay in your arms, Len. Keep caressing my back, Len._ Urgh! The thief must be cringing right now remembering it. What sort of superhero -? He should have just sucked it up and tried to run out of there once Len got the cuffs off him. Even if he’d only made it as far as the carpark he would have at least saved everyone the trouble of having to fight for him and Len would never have had to see him act like the little girl with a fucking sprained ankle – _again!_

And he wouldn’t have to be sitting here silently pining over someone who didn’t want him – _again!_ Tears threatened to overflow his eyes and he wiped them away quickly. All doubts about whether he had a further desire for Len had been washed away when the thief had come to save him. Len was _warm_ , had _strong_ arms, and his fingers on Barry’s back caused the most comforting and delightful sensations. He hadn’t run out of there because being close to Len was just too much of what he wanted.

He needed to find Len and ask if his fears were valid. To find out if Captain Cold really did think the Flash as pathetic as Barry imagined. He also wanted to apologise for being so thoughtless as to be captured in the first place. It was his fault Len had to do anything at all. But he had no way to find the criminal. His overnight stay at Len’s safehouse had confirmed it was empty, everything gone except for some long-term food stuffs in the pantry.  Len constantly used burner phones so there was no way to track him via that.  He had thought about asking Cisco to track the Cold Gun signature but that would have led to questions Barry just wasn’t ready to answer.

He wasn’t going to be able to sleep so he decided to head to STAR Labs, put on the suit and go out on patrol.  He’d been lax in that since the wedding and the others were beginning to ask questions.  Maybe running for a few hours would clear his head.  He’d just put on his sneakers when his phone dinged.

_Safehouse, now_ the text read from an unknown number.

Barry stared at the words, trying to make sure they were real and not some figment of his imagination.  With trembling fingers, he typed back:

_Pizza?_

_Yes, no olives_

_No olives? Are you mad?!_

_NO OLIVES!_

Barry grinned. He shrugged into the parka that had been sitting beside him on the bed and he was immediately gone in a blast of yellow lightning.

The apartment appeared lit from the outside when he arrived, four pizzas in hand.  He knocked quietly only having to wait a moment before the door opened.  Len was there.  Barry tried to contain just how mush his pulse quickened at the sight of the criminal. He was in his usual long sleeve t-shirt and jeans but he was barefoot, his feet standing out starkly against the dark of his pants where Barry was used to seeing heavy boots. The thief took in the parka Barry was wearing with a brief look of surprise before he stood back, silently gesturing for Barry to enter.

He put the boxes down on the coffee table in the small living room he’d spent no time in his previous visits.  The main lights were off, only a few table lamps lighting the lounge area, although the bright light in the open kitchen made for more illumination.

Barry stood there, well aware that Len was behind him but not knowing what to say.  When he turned to see if Len would speak first the criminal was much closer than he’d imagined, within inches of Barry, watching him closely, his expression tense and thoughtful. Barry took a tentative step towards him, half reaching out with a nervous hand. Len’s expression didn’t change but he closed the distance between them, and Barry found himself resting his hands upon Len’s chest, lightly running them up until they rested on his shoulders. Len’s face softened at Barry’s move, his hands coming to sit lightly to Barry’s hips but he still made no move to speak, just watching Barry with an analytical curiosity, as if wondering what Barry was doing there.

“So, is one of us going to say something?”  Barry asked as his fingers brushed against the back of Len’s neck, stroking through the stubble at the base of his skull. “’Cause this is getting a little -.”

Len’s lips were against his in a second, as soft and cool as they had been at the wedding, moving slow and gentle. Barry relaxed into his arms as the thief’s hands slid up to rest in his lower back, pressing him closer. This was what Barry had been dreaming of and he responded easily, the hands on Len’s neck pressing the criminal firmly to his lips without demanding more the way he had before. The last thing he wanted was to drive Len away again by moving faster than he was ready too.

When Len finally broke the kiss, he lowered his head to Barry’s shoulder and stood, still silent. Barry wasn’t sure what was going on but he went with it, simply nestling into Len’s neck. One of Len’s hands began to stroke his back as he had in the past, long caresses of fingertips up his spine and back down, making Barry shiver at the touch. Barry breathed in Len’s cologne and ran the tip of his nose up and down Len’s neck, nudging the end of his jaw.  The press of their bodies together felt strangely familiar to Barry, even though he’d only known this once before. Right now, the last thing he wanted was to leave the circle of Len’s arms. They stood like that for several minutes, just resting against each other, when Len eventually lifted his head to look Barry in the eye.

“Good evening, Barry,” he greeted him softly, his expression still serious and a little nervous.

Barry smiled gently. “Hey.”

“Can I take your coat?”  he asked, a smirk starting to twitch at the corners of his lips.

“You most definitely may take _your_ coat,” Barry replied, his smile widening.

They let go of each other and Barry shrugged out of the parka, Len folding it carefully and laying it across the back of the lounge.

“Would you like to eat now?” Len asked politely, as if playing host to some get together.

_No, I want to keep kissing you until neither of us can breathe._ “Yeah, that’d be nice, thanks.”

Len retrieved the pizzas and they went into the kitchen, where Len had already laid out plates and napkins, as well as an open bottle of red wine, breathing on the counter. Len took only a few pieces before picking up the wine bottle and vacating the small space for Barry to load his plate with half a dozen slices. When Barry returned to the living room, Len was standing behind one of the chairs at the small four-person dining table. The thief held it out for Barry to sit in and Barry felt his face heat up as Len pushed it in under him, as he would for a date. This was a date? His heartrate ratcheted up a notch and he swallowed hard. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he turned up here, but he hadn’t been ready for a this. He smiled nervously at Len as the man took the chair across from him, pouring a glass of wine for each of them.

“So…how was your…week?” Barry asked, taking a sip of wine, nearly choking at how nice it was. Nice meaning expensive.

Len took a sip of his own glass before answering. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thinking, planning, asking questions. The odd bit of torture.”

Barry looked at his plate. “Yeah, about that. What did you do?”

“I let Mick deal with Bryan,” he replied with a shrug. “Guy was so freaked out by the end he could barely walk away without falling over. You won’t be hearing from him again.”

Barry nodded, taking a bite of pizza. He wanted to ask more but also feared doing so. His satisfaction at the idea of his attackers suffering had long since faded and now he was dreading what he’d left Blackmore to suffer at Len’s hands. Joe was right, it wasn’t in Barry to be the bad guy, even if in that moment the anger and humiliation had caused him to act against his usual nature.

“As to our friend Stan, well let’s just say his right hand will never be the same again,” Len told him with a humourless smile. “But the rest of him is very much alive and intact.” He chewed and swallowed before he continued. “And on the good news front, it turns out he never told Wilks about you being the Flash, only that he thought you were my boyfriend. Seems he wanted to keep that extra bit of information for leverage in the future.”

“So, I don’t have to worry about Wilks,” Barry murmured, chewing slowly. “Do you know where he got the cuffs from? I kinda didn’t stick around this week to talk to the others about that.”

Len gave him an understanding smile, nodding thoughtfully before starting his story about what he’d been doing during the week rather than coming to visit Barry. He listened with growing astonishment and wonder at just how much work Len had been doing since the warehouse.

“So, hang on,” Barry interrupted as he got towards the end of the tale. “You questioned Officer Beaufort about who he sold the cuffs to and you…interrogated…Stan to find out where he bought the cuffs?”

“Yeah.”

“And then you traced those answers back to the pawn broker who sold them to Stan, and learned he’s working for the man who bribed Beaufort for them in the first place.”

“Yes.”

“And you ‘acquired’ security footage from CCPD of Beaufort and the bus depot showing the drop.”

“Yes. But the drop didn’t yield any information other than it looked like the same guy dropping the money who picked up the cuffs from Beaufort. It was too far away, and the quality was bad.”

“And you learned this new weapon’s dealer is going by the handle ‘Lord’ and that he seems to be making a loss on the cuffs?”

Len shrugged and frowned. “So far. I didn’t want to push Andy more than was necessary. Didn’t want to raise suspicion. However, -.” He bent down on his side of the table and lifted a silver wrapped gift tied in large black bow. “- I did manage to retrieve these.”

Barry took the offered box and pulled the bow apart, opening the lid. Inside were two sets of Cisco’s meta cuffs.

“With the ones that were used on you, this is all three that were stolen,” Len informed him between bites of pizza. “Hopefully this’ll get me a few brownie points with West.”

Barry smiled and closed the box.  “And with Cisco. He hates it when people steal his tech.”

“Of this I’m well aware,” Len told him with a smirk.

“Andy just handed them over?”

“No, I had to buy them,” Len replied and then shrugged at Barry’s surprised look as if it were no big deal.

Barry couldn’t help smiling. He took another sip of the absolutely fabulous wine and went back to his food. They ate in silence for a few minutes and Barry began to relax, letting Len’s quiet, solid presence soothe him.  He kicked off his sneakers and leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to enjoy the meal and the company.

“Why am I suspicious of the way you’re smiling at me Barry?” Len asked after a few minutes, looking up as he took another bite of pizza.

Barry couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Nothing,” he told him with a shake of his head. “Nothing at all.”

“Barry?” the enquiry demanded an answer.

Barry smiled wider. “I wouldn’t want to insult you.”

Len sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Go on. Insult me.”

“Just impressed by the way you chased down evidence this week,” Barry said. “Take out the torture of Blackmore and the paying for the cuffs and you’ve done everything pretty much the way a police detective would have done it. You would’ve been good at it.”

Len stared incredulously for a moment before breaking out into a low chuckle. “I’m not sure if I’m insulted or not. But it’s nice to know you think so well of me.”

“I think very well of you,” Barry replied gently, going back to his pizza. It was just more proof of Len’s intelligence and resourcefulness that could be turned to so many other things than just thieving.

There was silence for a few more minutes and Barry wondered if he’d embarrassed the criminal in some way as he went back to his own food without looking at Barry again. He was on the last slice when Len finally spoke again.

“How are you, Barry?”

The question took him by surprise. He didn’t think Len would be one to talk about any sort of truly personal stuff. “Ah, I’m actually pretty good all things considered.”

“What things?” Len pushed, gently.

“I’ve been picked on by bullies since I was a kid, being beaten up isn’t a new experience for me,” Barry admitted. “So, when I got so upset by what had happened I thought it _had_ to be Blackmore’s attempt to rape me. That was something new.” He took another large gulp of wine, finishing his glass and Len politely poured him another. “But the more I thought about it this week the more I realised it wasn’t what he did. When it came down to it, sticking his hand in my underwear was the same as him punching me again. What really hurt was the cuffs taking away my ability to fight back. I’m not much use without my speed.”

“You really think that?” Len asked his brows drawn together in concern.

Barry shrugged. “Smart isn’t gonna cut it with a broken body. You’ve seen how average I am when it comes to fighting without my powers. Anyway, I was just feeling sorry for myself, sick of being the damsel in distress for others to have to save. I’m supposed to be the hero.”

“Everyone needs help sometimes,” Len told him with a smile. “You had to save me in that alley.”

Barry huffed in disgust. “You did not need me to help you. You had those guys handled all by yourself. And I certainly didn’t need to look after your wounds. They were minor at most.”

“So why did you take me home?” Len asked then, his expression curious.

Barry looked away a moment before looking back at him. “I wanted to spend more time with you. Seemed like a good excuse.”

He watched Len’s eyes soften noticeably at that admission and the man seemed speechless for a few minutes as he finished his pizza and wine. Barry had finished his food, so simply sat, watching Len over the top of his glass as the thief took his last few bites.

“So, you’re feeling a lot better now?” Len asked again. Could it be he was feeling guilty over him being the reason Barry was kidnapped?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Barry told him. “I had you to help me through the last week.”

Len stopped, his glass half way to his lips. “How?” He looked pained, clearly thinking about the fact he hadn’t been near Barry since the warehouse.

“Whenever things got bad I’d think about you,” Barry told him with a smile. He glanced over at the parka and Len’s eyes followed his. He looked back at the thief again. “Remembering kissing you in the garden pretty much made everything better.”

Barry’s smile grew as Len’s lips parted slightly in shock, his eyes widening. The criminal’s expression suddenly became serious and he put the glass down and stood up.  Barry watched in confusion as Len came to his side of the table and held out his hand. Barry reached out tentatively and took it, shocked when Len ripped him out of his seat.

Barry gasped as Len grabbed him round the waist with one arm, the other hand finding the back of his neck, drawing him into a fierce embrace as he mashed their lips together in a desperate kiss. Barry relaxed against him, his own arms wrapped round Len’s neck, his fingers trailing over the stubble of his hair.

This was what Barry had initially expected, Len wanting to be in complete control. He went with it, letting Len’s lips move as he wanted, responding in a way that let him know he was alright with it. When Len’s tongue slowly stroked the length of Barry’s lower lip, Barry moaned softly and opened to him, letting the thief in to steal whatever he wanted. Len’s body tensed at his easy response, pulling Barry in even tighter, hot wet tongue pressing deeply into Barry’s mouth, searching, exploring, devouring, taking whatever he wanted and Barry was happy to let him have it. Teeth scraped and nipped his lower lip, before taking it and drawing it out in a long pull before Len dived back in for more.

The press of Len’s body against his was even better than Barry remembered, and he pushed harder against him, feeling the grind of a hard length against his own through his jeans, eliciting another gasping moan from Barry and a grunt from Len. The thief’s hands slid down to grip Barry’s arse and he lifted him without effort, causing Barry to gasp into Len’s mouth. God, he felt so light in Len’s arms. He wrapped his legs tight around Len’s hips and Len stopped kissing him to stare in shock. Before Barry could ask what was wrong, Len turned, taking three quick strides to the nearest wall, pressing Barry hard against it as they traded tongues and lips once again.

Len turned his attention to Barry’s neck, his movements slowing and becoming less forceful. Hot precise movements of his lips against Barry’s pulse point made Barry groan, as soft kisses trailed down to his collar and back again. Barry’s nails scraped across his scalp, flat hands running over the velvety stubble of Len’s hair as he pressed him firmer into his neck.

“Fuck Scarlet, what am I going to do with you?”  Len breathed in his ear, sucking on his earlobe, sending a violent shiver through Barry as teeth nibbled his flesh.

“I can think of a number of things,” Barry panted out. “God, Len what’s happening?”

Len’s lips abruptly left his skin, although he didn’t release Barry or loosen his grip on his arse.  “What do you want to happen?”

“I - I don’t know,” Barry stammered out.  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the wedding, or the warehouse.”  He pulled back to look him in the eye.  “Or that you ran away both times. I want to know what’s going on.”

Len’s grip loosened then, and Barry could feel him preparing to draw away.  Barry refused to let him, pulling his arms tight around Len’s neck, brushing his lips against his ear.  “Don’t go cold on me now,” he whispered.  “Just talk to me, right here.”

He felt Len sigh, the warm breath flowing over his neck.  He tightened his hands on him again, letting Barry know he wasn’t going anywhere. “You frighten me, Barry.”

“Why?”  Barry demanded. What could he have possibly done to scare Captain Cold?

“You’re so fucking good, in every way.  It’d be so easy to let you in,” Len murmured in his ear.

“And so easy to get hurt,” Barry replied just as softly, letting his lips trail gently down Len’s jaw and back up to his ear.  “You think I don’t feel the same? God Len, I’ve spent the last two weeks fighting with myself over how this could ever work but as soon as I got your text I didn’t even hesitate.”

“What do you want, Barry?”  His tone was serious.

Barry nuzzled into Len’s neck and left soft kisses against his skin, feeling an intense satisfaction when the criminal shivered in his arms.  “I don’t know what this is,” he said. “But I want to find out where it’ll go. I just need to know this isn’t some game to you.”

 Len let out another sigh.  “No games, Scarlet. Not about this.”

“Then let’s find out,” Barry grinned against his flesh, nipping gently at his neck.

“Fuck, kid,” Len breathed pulling him in tighter, kissing him again with all the passion he’d showed earlier.  Barry let him, everything else disappearing as they melded into each other.

 

Len carried Barry into the still darkened bedroom, drawing him to the end of the bed.  He slapped Barry’s arse gently and the kid dropped his legs, without breaking their embrace. He was still kissing him, desperate not to break their connection. Barry tasted like red wine on fire, the electricity of the Speed Force channelled through every part of him trembling with a background buzz. Those plump young lips were so soft, so hot against his Len never wanted to stop. His hands ran the length of his torso. He grabbed the bottom of Barry’s shirt and pulled it off him, tossing it to the floor. Len’s hands were instantly back on the speedster’s body, caressing the kid with long slow strokes that caused him to tremble violently under Len’s fingers.  Len groaned into his mouth at the sensation as Barry sighed in return, melting against him, nails scratching lightly across Len’s scalp.

“You alright?” Len asked in his ear as Barry trembled again.

“Yeah, it’s just -,” he started and then paused as if he was reluctant to confess something.

                “It’s okay, Barry,” he reassured him, running the tip of his nose along Barry’s jaw.

                “Since the explosion, since I got my powers, everything is a lot more sensitive,” Barry admitted, sounding embarrassed. “So, everything feels more intense.”

                “Lucky you,” Len murmured, licking at his earlobe.

                “You’d think so but sometimes that means it also happens…faster…oh fuck…later,” Barry muttered in disgust at his own babbling. He kissed Len again, probably to keep his own mouth shut and Len had no objections.

His hands slid lower, gripping Barry’s arse in both hands again and lifting him off the ground, turning them to the bed, laying Barry beneath him.  The kid was arching and squirming as Len moved down his body, kissing his way down his neck and across his shoulders.

Barry grabbed at his shirt, pulling it up to his shoulders.  Len sat back, straddling Barry and pushing it back in place.

“What?” Barry asked, looking confused at the move.

“Later,” Len told him. “Right now, I want you this way.”

Barry’s grin was just visible in the low light from the living room, pulling Len back down onto him, kissing him again.  It was easier than telling Barry he’d rather not have the kid see his body this early on.  He wanted to have Barry beyond thought before he revealed what was under his shirt.

God, how long had he fantasised about having Barry beneath him like this?  His hands flowed lightly over the speedster’s sides, the tightly shaped lines lean and firm under Len’s fingers.  He felt so hot under Len’s hands, was that a speedster thing? Right now he didn’t care, he just couldn’t get enough of that tender pale flesh under his hands. Barry was stroking through his hair and over his back, pawing again at his shirt.

“I want to feel you against me,” Barry demanded breathlessly, pulling at Len’s shirt.

“Patience,” Len whispered in his ear, nibbling at an earlobe again.

He heard Barry mutter “Nope.” Then the next thing he knew the light was on, he was on his back and Barry was straddling his hips. Len was also without a shirt.

“That’s hardly fair, Scarlet,” he muttered, looking around for his shirt and trying to sit up.

“Speedster’s aren’t known for their patience,” Barry muttered, absently. He put a hand to Len’s chest, giving him a half-hearted push back to the bed, his eyes already fixed on his torso.

Len watched, cautious and tense. His body had caused any number of reactions in his lovers over the years.  Some had ignored it, some had said they hated it, some had claimed it was sexy, though he’d never believed them. A few notables had been disgusted and retreated.  Len was surprised that wasn’t the overwhelming reaction. As much as Len worked to keep himself in shape (it paid to be fit if you had to run for your life), there was no way he could hide the scars.  He did his best to lessen their appearance with the tattoos but they were still evident to any who took more than a passing glance.

Barry was staring with a mixture of emotions that Len had never seen before. One hand tentatively reached out to trace the blade of a small dagger tattooed across his abdomen, a reminder of the first time he’d ever stabbed someone. Len twitched at the light tickling touch and Barry glanced up at him.  He must have seen the doubt in Len’s eyes as he put both hands to Len’s stomach and stroked upwards, flat palms questing towards his chest.  When he came to evidence of a gunshot wound just to the right of Len’s heart he stopped, looking tortured.  Kid was a CSI, not a medical examiner but it was clear Barry knew what he was looking at, and just how close that had come to killing Len all those years ago. Without warning he dropped forward, kissing the spot, hot tongue circling the round scar the bullet had left behind. Len groaned as Barry sucked at him before he continued to kiss his chest everywhere else.

Len watched as Barry continued his exploration, his head lifted to observe the young man caress and kiss more of his scars, hands running slowly, delicately over his battered body. He couldn’t pick the expression on Barry’s face, it was not something Len had ever seen before.

“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly, needing to know what was going on in the kid’s head.

Barry sat back, still straddled over his hips, his hands continuing to caress him, fingertips tracing along the top of Len’s jeans.  “Are you kidding?” He gestured at Len’s chest.  “This is amazing.”

Len pushed himself up on his elbows, trying to see if he was being serious.  “Really?”

Barry was shaking his head, fingers still contacting skin.  “This is – Len this is like -.”

“What?”  he asked.

Barry looked at him then. Had he heard the fear in Len’s voice?  “It’s like the most complicated treasure map.  I mean, I can see it. The scars, the tattoos, it’s your whole life, laid out. Honestly, I could be with this for hours and not understand it all. It’s – fuck Len, it’s gorgeous.” Len could see it then; how soft and wide his eyes were as he took in all the details.  It was awe.  Barry Allen was _awed_ by the sight of his body? The speedster slid back then, kissing and licking along the top of Len’s jeans, tongue dipping just below the fabric at times.

Len dropped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, just feeling Barry move across him.  Burning lips and fingers traced the long scar left from a jagged piece of metal he’d fallen on when trying to escape prison early on. It led Barry to his hip, teeth grazing across his hip bone, causing Len to jump and grunt at how that tickled.  Barry clearly noticed the effect and he continued to lick and nip at the spot, making Len gasp and squirm under him.  Then it stopped, fingers stroking a particular shape on his skin.

“Is that the Khandaq Dynasty Diamond?”  he asked, surprised.

Len grinned.  “One of my biggest heists.”

“And our first date,” Barry put in. Len could feel the tightness of Barry’s lips against his skin as he smiled while he kissed and licked around the image of the diamond.

Len took a huge breath. God this kid! Len had been the worst of himself that night. The worst of everything Lewis had ever tried to drum into him. 

“I tried to kill you Barry, we didn’t have wine and roses,” Len pointed out as Barry began an upward ascent on his abs and chest.

“Had to go through that to get here,” Barry reminded him, his lips still pulled back in a smile.

Len found he had no come back to that, and instead closed his eyes concentrating on the incredible sensations Barry’s tongue was causing across his skin and through the rest of his body. Barry was so tender in his explorations, so gentle in his touches Len found himself shivering time and again.  Warm electric shocks erupted through his skin like the kid was channelling the Speed Force through his fingertips.

Most of Len’s past sex life had been fast and dirty. A quick release from the physical pressures that would build in his body.  This was something different. Barry truly cared to give him what he thought he needed and that included understanding.  Understanding of everything he’d been through, and forgiveness for past transgressions he knew he could never change. As Barry reached his right shoulder he felt him kiss each individual cigarette burn, run a warm tongue over the small points and then blow cool air on them, as if through those gentle caring touches he could heal them all.  The tenderness of Barry’s attentions broke something inside Len.  One of the icy walls he’d built up cracked and split open, letting out a flood of emotion. A strangled sob escaped him, then another, his chest heaving with repressed pain suddenly found release.

“Len?!”  Barry exclaimed, his voice fearful.

With a groan of agony Len grabbed Barry by the arms and rolled him over onto his back, pinning his arms above his head as Len attacked his lips, tongue delving deep and furious into Barry’s mouth, desperate for everything the young hero could give him. Pulling one of his arms down so his hand was level with his shoulder Len tore into Barry’s neck, biting and gnawing his way along the length until Barry let out a groan, accompanied by a violent shudder.  Len knew he’d found the sweet spot and stayed there, sinking in his teeth and sucking as hard as he could, all the while still sobbing into Barry’s neck.

Barry was moaning, breath ragged, body arching up into Len, wrists flexing and relaxing convulsively in an attempt to break free of Len’s numbing grip. “Len…Len,” he gasped.

“Beautiful,” Len growled into Barry’s ear. “Beautiful fucking boy. I am going to wreck you.”

Letting go of Barry’s wrists he moved down his chest, kissing, licking, biting his way. A nipple sucked hard into his mouth caused Barry to cry out in shock and pain, taking Len’s head in his hands, fingers digging into his stubble, holding tight. He didn’t try to push Len away though, so when Len blew cool breeze on the tortured nipple and kissed it gently Barry whimpered and arched his back again, begging Len for more.

Tears were still running down his cheeks, shaking breaths breaking up his movements but he didn’t stop.  Didn’t stop attacking the speedster with all he had, giving this gorgeous young man everything he could.  He kissed Barry’s abs, tongue delving into his navel as he undid his jeans with one hand, the other holding himself up.

Barry groaned and bucked again. “God yes…please,” he begged, helping Len pull his pants down.

Len slapped his hands away, standing up, taking hold of the top of Barry’s jeans in both hands.  He kept his eyes on Barry’s flushed and panting face and he yanked down, turning the jeans inside out as he pulled them off in one deft movement that left the kid gaping at him in surprise. His socks followed in duel succession.

Len’s fingers found Barry’s knees, lightly stroking up the length of his inner thighs until he stopped just short of his crotch.  Barry groaned and dropped back to the bed.  “Shit, Len.”

He dropped to his knees at the end of the bed, grabbing Barry behind the knees and pulling him forward until his feet were on the ground. Then he had his mouth on him again, tracing hot lines up the length of his thighs, making the kid tremble and shake, quietly begging through gasping breaths for him to move faster.  Len grinned.  He had no intention of taking this too fast. He wanted to savour every delicious part of the speedster.  His tongue pressed deep into the crease at the top of Barry’s leg, licking the length of his underwear but never dipping underneath. 

Barry was groaning with pleasure and frustration trying to push Len’s head towards where he wanted it but Len refused to be rushed, taking in the taste of sweat and smelling Barry’s sex.  Barry’s cock was aching to be released from its restraint, the hot length twitching against Len’s cheek as he continued his delightful torture of the young man. Barry spread his legs wider, pushing Len’s head into him harder but no longer demanding the thief in any one direction.  Len’s own cock was aching for release, so he finally took a little pity on Barry, sliding his underwear down and off, agonisingly slowly.

“Fuck Len, you are going to wreck me,” Barry groaned in complaint as Len went back to licking the length of Barry’s crotch but staunchly refusing to touch where Barry wanted him to.

Eventually Len stiffened his tongue, probing the tip at Barry’s sack, drawing hot circles of moisture across the surface. Barry’s back arched again, and he let out a strangled cry that may have contained words, but Len couldn’t make them out. Len felt his stomach hollow out at the noise, his own body flushing with heat and desire at the exquisite sound. Fuck the kid sounded beautiful. He moved closer, taking Barry into his mouth, sucking gently on his balls causing another agonised groan of lust from the young man.  With one hand he reached out, stroking one fingertip up the length of Barry’s penis, feeling it twitch and buck under his hand as Barry gasped in shock at the sensation.

Len kissed the base of his cock, listening with satisfaction as Barry’s arms were flung wide, hitting the bed with a heavy thump.  Barry forced his hips up to Len’s lips, silently begging him for more.

“What do you want, Barry?”  Len breathed hot air the length of Barry’s cock, teasingly close but never making contact.

“You know what I want, damn it,” Barry groaned bucking up again but Len drew back a little just out of reach.

“Tell me, Scarlet, what do you want?”

“I want you to suck my cock you fucking teasing bastard,” Barry ground out.

“Language, Barry,” Len said, with a grin.  “Ask nicely.”

Barry groaned.  “Please,” he begged, breathlessly.  “Please, Len. I need you.”

Len sighed, running his cheek the length of Barry again.  “I need you too,” he whispered.

He took the tip of Barry into his mouth, running his tongue over the head with slow movements, delving into his slit and round again.  The agonised groan that shook Barry’s body made the bed shake, the speedster pushing up with his hips.  Len let him, taking more of him in slowly, and then back out again. He took his time, taking just a little more with each duck of his head.  The kid was nicely hung and it took a while for Len to get all of him in.  The moment he hit the back of Len’s throat Barry let out a delicious whimper that almost made Len lose it himself. Barry was already thrashing and bucking like he was close and when Len added his hand to the effort, stroking up and down to help his mouth it didn’t take long for Barry to cry out in what could only be described as despair, his back arching at an impossibly high angle, driving him deep into Len’s mouth as he filled him, the thief gulping down everything Barry gave him as the speedster dropped back to the bed, panting and sobbing.

Len crawled up the bed and Barry grabbed him up, burying his head in Len’s neck with shaking breaths as Len wrapped him in gentle arms.

“It’s okay, Scarlet,” he whispered.

“Okay?” Barry let out a long breath.  “It was fucking impossible.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I am wrecked.”

“Oh, I think I can do better than that,” Len told him with a grin. “You can still talk.”

Barry let out a shaky laugh and Len could feel the face against his neck screw up tight, Barry beginning to tremble.

“Barry?”

“It’s never felt like that,” he replied, tears in his voice. “Like I said, everything’s more intense. Never knew how much until now.”

Len tightened his hold, and so did Barry and they lay for long minutes, Len stroking light fingers up and down Barry’s bare back, until the kid got himself under control.

Finally, Barry sniffed and lifted his head with a sudden movement.  “God, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back. “You must be waiting for me to reciprocate.”

Len chuckled at the kid’s earnestness.  “That’d be nice.”

Barry flushed deep red, and the sight made Len’s softening member twitch and pump again.

Barry pulled away and sat up, his expression serious. “Um, you do know I’ve never done this right?”

Len propped himself up on one elbow.  “Done what?”

“With a guy,” Barry told him.

Len froze, suddenly aware he’d allowed his fantasies about the speedster cloud his judgement. Yeah, he knew the kid had it bad for his foster sister, but he’d thought that it just meant Barry was bi. The night of the wedding Barry had been so open to Len kissing him he hadn’t even considered the kid had never been with a man. If Barry had never been with a man that meant Len was going to be the first one to -.

“So, if I do anything wrong you gotta tell me straight away and tell me what you want -.”

Len leaned in, kissing him, slow and gentle, trying to keep control of the idea that he was going to be the first man Barry was ever with.  “You were doing perfectly before I lost it.  Keep doing that.”

Barry flushed again, softer this time. Christ, _Scarlet_ really was the perfect name for him.  God, he was so fucking beautiful. It took all Len’s willpower not to throw him down and have him again.

Barry leaned in to kiss him, trading tongues and breathy moans as they collapsed back to the bed, Barry climbing half on top of him, one hand sliding down to Len’s jeans, pressing tentatively against him. Len let out a grunt of surprise, his tongue involuntarily thrusting deep in to Barry’s mouth.

He drew back and grinned at Len.  “I don’t think I can pull off that cool move with the jeans like you did, but I may be able to -.”

The next thing Len knew the bed was rocking and he was without jeans, laying there in his underwear Barry grinning at him from the end of the bed, jeans in hand.

“I think we need a few rules about powers in bed,” Len grumbled, not liking being tossed about without knowing it.

Barry gave him a theatrical pout and to Len’s surprise he disappeared from the room in a burst of yellow lightning. He returned an instant later wearing the parka, the dark blue against his beautifully pale naked skin caused Len to swallow hard as a flush of desire made his cock twitch at the sight.

The speedster was grinning as he climbed back on the bed, laying next to him, pressing soft kisses down his neck as his hand quested down over his chest to rest against his hardening cock again. “It’s not all bad,” Barry murmured.

That hand suddenly vibrated at high speed, sending a shockwave through Len like he’d never felt before. “Holy fuck!”

Barry was grinning into his neck, pushing Len onto his back and starting to kiss down his chest again, moving faster this time, making his way all the way down to Len’s thighs, pulling off his underwear without pause. 

Len lifted himself up on his elbows again, watching as Barry took in the sight of his cock with more awe. There may be some parts of his body that Len was tentative about – like his scars, but one thing he was never embarrassed about was his dick. Not that he was massively long but he was thick and Len knew he had nothing to be worried about in the size department. Barry’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard at the sight.  He reached out and caressed tentative fingers along the length of it, looking pleased with himself when it jumped in response.

He grinned and then crawled back up the bed, the parka hood falling over his head as he did so.

“Been thinking about this a lot since the warehouse,” Barry whispered into Len’s ear, as he went back to sucking Len’s neck. The older man dropped back to the bed. One of Barry’s hands quested back down to take Len in hand, beginning a slow delicate stroke that tightened Len’s stomach and made his breath hitch.

“About…what?” he breathed out with difficulty.

“What it’d be like to be with you,” Barry murmured. The fur edge of the parka was tickling the thief’s cheek. “How it would be, what we’d do.” He bit down on the nape of Len’s neck, and the quiet gasp Len let out was enough encouragement for him to continue, nibbling and sucking at the spot as Len squirmed beneath him. “And all the while wearing this.” He bit down a little harder.

“My…parka?” Len demanded with hitched breaths.

                “Mmm hmm,” Barry hummed softly into his ear as he sucked his earlobe. “Laying there on my bed, naked but for this, the smell of you all around me. Just imagining what you’d be like.” Barry lifted up to look Len in the eye. “You have no idea how many times I’ve got off this week just thinking about you.”

                The image of Barry, jerking off while wearing only his parka did things to Len and his back suddenly arched into Barry’s hand with a desperate moan he hadn’t meant to make, asking for more. Barry obliged without the same teasing Len would have provided, his hand moving faster but still as light, driving Len mad.

                “Tell me about it,” Len gasped out with a breathy moan.

                Barry grinned into his neck. “I thought about the wedding, being in the garden with you, near darkness, the possibility anyone could walk out and find us. But still more than willing to open your pants and take you into my mouth. Sucking you off to the sounds of the party, listening to you moan my name into the night, but not letting one single drop of you ruin that gorgeous fucking suit.”

                Len groaned at the image and his own further fantasies of what could have happened out in the garden that night. “Fuck…Barry. Here I thought…I’d found a sweet innocent…hero.”

                Barry’s breathy laugh was anything but sweet and innocent, hollowing out Len’s stomach and he bucked up. He lifted up again to look Len in the eye. “I’d never thought about cock before. But since the wedding I’ve thought about nothing but yours. I’ve come four times the last week thinking about you -,” his hand tightened and twisted around the head slowly, never breaking eye contact. “- and all the things that were possible.” Len groaned out a curse throwing his head back into the bed.

                “Four?” he asked trying to find something to distract him from the images in his head.

                “Mmm, every night,” Barry whispered with a smile that was far too filthy for the young hero.

                Len suddenly lifted his head to stare at Barry again as he brain ground to a halt. “Every night?”

                Barry’s disgustingly dirty grin widened. “Speedster! My meta healing processes lowers my refractory period -.”

                Len shut him up by kissing him, wrapping arms tight around that fucking beautiful lean form and squeezing. Barry’s hand slipped from him as he did, the young man resting both elbows near Len’s head to steady himself. Len hadn’t even considered the sexual implications of Barry’s altered physiology but he was quickly finding out there was a lot more to learn about Barry. The possibilities of those explorations sent his mind into a spiral of fantasies that had him moaning into the hero’s mouth, grinding their groins together in unbridled lust. Barry matched his movements and they began to shift against each other. Barry was already hard again, evidence of his capabilities and it wasn’t long before he was panting and moaning as he had earlier.

                “Sorry,” he apologised breathlessly, but not stopping. “This should be about you right now.”

                Len grunted and grabbed Barry arse in both hands, grinding them both together even harder.  “Come for me, Barry.”

                The kid’s eyes widened, then closed tight as they continued and he groaned, his head dropping onto Len’s shoulder, his breath coming in quick gasps, as his body began to shiver, the trembling turning uncontrollable as the kid lost it to the sensations running through him.

                “Come for me, beautiful fucking boy,” Len ground out, smacking one tight buttock with a stinging slap and Barry suddenly stilled, his hips pressed into Len’s. He let out a series of breathy grunts, his hips stuttering in jerky movements as he whimpered into Len’s neck. Before long he relaxed, panting fast and shallow. Len felt the thick wet warmth between them and smiled against the side of Barry’s head, kissing his cheek softly.

                “How the fuck did you do that?” Barry demanded, his whisper amazed.

                “A magician never reveals his tricks,” Len grinned into his cheek, kissing him again.

Barry looked Len in the eye, something determined settled in his expression and he slid down Len’s body, taking the tip between his lips. Len gasped at the first feel of Barry’s mouth, the speedster’s heat burning his sensitive member as his tongue explored across the surface and around the head.

                “Fuck…fuck,” Len groaned out, his head flopping back onto the bed as he temporarily lost control of his body.

Barry’s mouth on him caused hot flushes across his skin and more electric shots through his whole body.  It wasn’t long before Barry had him moaning and whining despite his inexperience, or perhaps because of it. The kid’s enthusiasm and desire to please had Len coming faster than he ever thought possible. He had only to apply the slightest pressure to Barry’s hair and the kid was taking in his length, ducking down and back up with slow movements, as light and delicate as his hand had been. Len was already half gone from Barry’s description of his fantasises and when he let out one particularly loud moan Barry paused and looked up to meet Len’s eye, his swollen pink lips still locked around the head of Len’s cock, framed by the fur of the parka hood. Holy shit such beautiful virgin innocence wrapped round his dick! Len lost it entirely, his back arching, his body trembling in a way he hadn’t experienced in years as the orgasm rocked through him. He didn’t have to ask Barry to swallow, he seemed to assume it was the done thing and Len had no intention of telling him otherwise.  When he finally collapsed panting and spent, Barry climbed up beside him and Len took a good look at him. Barry was grinning at his achievement, his swollen lips drawn back in an angelic smile as his hazel-green eyes glowed with warmth. The fur from the hood still framed his face and Len couldn’t think of a more beautiful image in that moment.

“Scarlet,” he whispered reverently, pulling him in against him, pressing gentle kisses to his temple and cheek, stroking down his back.

For Barry’s part, he nestled against Len’s chest, tracing soft lines across his scars again.  There were no more words between them and it wasn’t long before Barry was drifting off, his breathing evening out, deep and slow. 

Len continued to stroke his back, revelling in the smooth soft flesh that moulded over tight rounded muscle. The kid was fucking everything Len had dreamed about these past months. More even. He’d expected Barry to have little experience but hadn’t thought he’d be so forward in his desires, so ready to express what he wanted, reveal what he’d fantasied about. As much as he loved to see him blush, there was a flush of desire Barry’s youthful confidence had caused that was just as hot as the one his innocence had brought out. Len ran fingers through the thick locks, Barry letting out a sleepy hum of contentment at the attention, his arm tightening across Len’s chest in a hot line of speedster heat. That and the body pressed against his side, warmed Len right through.

Why was it that Barry’s heat was the most soothing thing Len had ever experienced? As he had the night after the alley fight, he found he could easily relax, as if Barry’s very presence guaranteed a safe place Len could let down his guard to his surroundings and just let himself _be_.

He’d finally lost the battle against his doubts and texted the kid. He’d told himself it was just to make sure Barry was alright after the kidnapping. But when Barry had arrived, in his parka of all things, Len had been surprised and touched. He’d been so surprised by his rapid arrival with no hesitation that he found himself at a loss for words. He’d kissed Barry in that moment to shut him up, because for once in his life Leonard Snart had no idea what to say. That Barry had kissed him back so readily, melting into his arms like he belonged there, just as he had at the wedding – Len’s brain had ground to a complete halt. That Barry had suffered so much pain and hurt because of Len and he still wanted to be there with him? It hadn’t made sense. He couldn’t find any words to express how little sense it made. So, he’d just held him for a long time, his brain seized by the extreme thoughts of finally having a whole and healthy Barry Allen in his arms and wondering what the hell he intended to do now he had him there.

He’d spent the entirety of dinner not quite knowing what he was doing. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in many years, especially when it came to moving to next base. In the past he’d always made his intentions known quickly and frankly and let the other person decide if they were interested. If not, it wasn’t like he’d been invested in the first place. But with Barry he was nervous (even fearful if he was completely honest with himself), of rejection. It had been Barry’s admission that thoughts of Len were what made him feel better that had again ground his brain to a halt. He allowed himself to stop thinking and just start feeling. That Barry had responded so easily to his rough advance had given him all the confidence he needed to keep going and it seemed neither of them were dissatisfied with the outcome.

Barry shifted his arm slightly across Len’s body and the thief became aware of the stickiness between them that was Barry’s second orgasm. As the speedster let out a quiet snore Len smiled softly and gently extricated himself out of Barry’s tangle of arms and legs. He went to the bathroom, warming a washcloth under the hot water tap and cleaning himself off, returning to wipe down Barry’s chest and stomach. The kid barely moved at the gentle touches, as if completely out to it. Len turned the bedroom light off but left the lights on in the rest of the apartment. As soon as he returned to bed, Barry was quick to shift towards him, again wrapping arms and legs around him as if even in sleep he was desperate for Len’s presence. Len wrapped him up, resting a cheek on Barry’s mussed hair and sighing as he closed his eyes. He still had no idea what they were doing but he’d be damned if he let himself miss out on something as good as this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Len and Barry's weekend continues with more conversation and more sex.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Len's first romantic weekend together continues. They talk a few things through, and get to 'know' each other to a greater extent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of explicit sexual content in this chapter. You've been warned.

                It was still dark, the early hours of the Saturday morning when Barry woke.  He stirred slowly, having slept a peaceful and uninterrupted sleep nestled against Len. The bedroom was dark but the door was open, the dim light from the living room bathing the bed in a soft yellow glow. He looked up at Len’s sleeping face, amazed the hardened criminal could look so at peace, his features softened into something even more handsome as the weight of all his years and all his deeds lifted off him in slumber. He wrapped an arm around Len’s chest and snuggled closer.  Singh was right, it didn’t matter, as long as the emotion was real.

Barry found himself smiling in the dark, a wave of contentment flowing through him like he hadn’t felt in years.  He didn’t know what this thing was but he was happy with it. He traced fingers across Len’s chest, trailing over each one of his scars.  He’d half expected Len to have tattoos but the intricate fabric of intertwined images that covered a lot of Len’s torso, shoulders and upper arms was beyond anything he’d imagined. It was clear he used them to cover the multitude of scars. There was a section at the top of Len’s right shoulder, that was painted to look like a piece of rusted metal, the rivets down the centre covering a series of cigarette burns that Barry had kissed his way through. Barry so wanted to read this map again and again, learning it by heart. He’d never considered such a complex and amazing body could ever have existed and he wanted to spend every waking hour discovering its secrets.

Barry’s fingers strayed all over Len’s torso, leaving long teasing touches across his skin as he traced the outlines of several tattoos he found interesting.

“Whatcha ya doin’, Scarlet?”  Len mumbled, his eyes still closed.

“Enjoying the moment,” Barry replied, softly.

Len grunted and shifted slightly, turning just a little towards him, but giving Barry better access to him.

His fingertips caressed Len’s side and over his back.  The thief sighed a contented sound and relaxed even more into Barry. Barry’s hand slid over a long rough mark that took his attention. Another scar clearly, this one ran horizontally across Len’s back, the raised, jagged edged line longer than Barry’s questing fingers could reach from this position. As he traced it he became aware there were more, a large collection of long scars criss-crossing over Len’s back. It didn’t take long for understanding to come to him. Len had been whipped repeatedly in the past. Lewis? It was more than likely but Barry didn’t want to make the assumption, nor did he feel like he should ask. It was then he noticed that the thief was lying very still, barely breathing and Barry withdrew his hand to stroke along his side again, resulting in Len relaxing. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to ask.

He put it out of his mind for the moment, concentrating on the shape of Len’s muscles under his fingers, the tight shape and line of his form. He wasn’t as lean as Barry, and there was a little softness in places but for the most part the criminal was in fine physical shape. Barry couldn’t help himself, beginning to kiss down Len’s chest, lips and tongue tracing across the gorgeous skin.

“Shit kid,” Len complained, pulling him up so he was he was level with his face.  “Starting to think you’re too young for me.”

“Hey, you’ve had at least four hours sleep,” Barry told him, kissing him gently.

Len finally opened his eyes.  “Really?”

Barry grinned.  “And we have all weekend.  Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

Len groaned and pulled him in to kiss him, lazy and sleepy. Barry felt his head spinning as Len’s tongue slid slowly against his, gentle moist circles making him dizzy and hollowing out his stomach. His hand ventured lightly down Len’s body, taking him in a gentle grip, beginning to stroke him back to life.

“Ah!” Len gasped. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Scarlet.”

The breath caught in Barry’s throat, he looked away, burying himself in Len’s neck.  “Don’t ever say that, not even as a joke.”

Len put a finger under Barry’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Barry suddenly had tears in his eyes, leaning in to kiss Len with a fierceness he hadn’t realised he possessed, so forceful their teeth clashed together. He pulled him down on top of him, wanting to feel Len’s weight. “I want all of you,” Barry breathed into his mouth, kissing him again. He was suddenly desperate for whatever Len could give him, in case it was taken away like everything else good in his life.

Len pulled back to look at him. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

“Won’t know ‘til we try,” Barry panted.  “Want you.”

 “You tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable,” Len told him seriously, and Barry could see he was thinking about Blackmore.

Barry gave him a serious smile, wrapping an arm tight around his neck, scratching across his scalp as he kissed him again, deep and slow, his other hand venturing down between them to take Len in hand. It was an obvious ploy to get Len worked up and the thief now seemed unperturbed by it, grinding his hips into Barry’s grip without resistance for a few minutes, moaning soft breaths into Barry’s mouth as their tongues slid across each other.

Len eventually slid off him, looking at him with blue eyes, no longer cool but dilated wide and dark with desire. “Roll over.”

Barry did as he was commanded and Len pulled the parka off his shoulders, throwing it aside. He got up and went to switch on the light, then proceeded to kiss and nip all over Barry’s neck and shoulders, slowly making his way down.  It was too slow for Barry, who wanted everything now. Len seemed to love teasing him, drawing things out to make Barry squirm. Finally, Len reached the end, kissing and nuzzling at the dimples in his lower back.

“Oh god, Len,” Barry whined in complaint.

“Really, speedsters do have no patience,” Len murmured into his skin. “I get to enjoy myself as well.”

Barry squirmed again, biting back a petulant reply and Len began to kiss and lick across one buttock while squeezing the other.

“Shit, you do have the most beautiful arse, Barr -,” Len murmured again, the last word cut off as he bit down on the firm flesh.

“OW!” Barry cried out, turning half over to look at his lover. “Won’t be so beautiful if you take a chunk out of it!”

Len lifted his gaze, grinning at Barry through dark lashes as he bit down again, gentler this time, causing him to groan and drop back to the bed. “Why do you have to tease me so much?”

“Your sounds turn me on, and I like to take my time,” Len replied, grazing his nose across the firm mounds, the tip of his tongue slipping along the long line of Barry’s crack, making him gasp and buck at the tickling sensation. “Just like that,” Len whispered.

Suddenly he rose up, laying the full length of the young man placing a hand on either side of his shoulders. “I think I could get off just on the fucking amazing sounds you let loose.”

Barry gasped again as Len slid forward, his hard cock slipping along the length of Barry’s arse crack, the line of heat drawing a delighted moan from deep in Barry’s throat. Barry found himself bucking and groaning as Len dry humped along his crack. He finally lowered himself down on Barry totally, nipping at his neck and jaw, as his fingers stroked down Barry’s sides, while his cock continued to pulse and jump against his arse.

“Please, Len,” Barry begged, realising making him ask was part of the turn on for Len too.  “Please.”

Len slid back down without a word, again nuzzling and nipping at Barry’s buttocks.  Finally, his tongue pressed hard against his tailbone and slid downwards, dipping into the crack and then further down. Barry couldn’t wait any more, spreading his legs and lifting his arse off the bed, splaying himself open to Len’s attentions. The first hot swipe of Len’s tongue across his opening made him whimper and shake, the continued attention making him gasp and groan as if he was about to die.  His cock was so hard it ached and Len wasn’t even inside him yet. Len continued to play with him for long minutes, clearly savouring the taste, and smell of him if the long slow breaths through his nose were any indication and Barry’s knees were trembling so badly he thought he was about to collapse.

“Need something,” he panted, between shaky breaths. “Need you.”

“Patience, Scarlet,” Len told him, moving away to retrieve a tube of lubricant from a drawer in the bedside table. Barry watched through hazy half-closed eyes as Len lubed his fingers generously. “We’ll take it slow, you tell me if it hurts.”

Barry nodded, tensing at the feel of the cold lube against his burning skin. Len ran his finger around the opening a few times before slowly pushing inside.  Barry’s head dropped and he bit his bottom lip to stop from groaning as the digit pressed further. The sensation changed quickly, from discomfort to pleasure in a few moments. He could feel it, his meta healing processes rushing to the site, quickly removing any ache and leaving only the intense pressure of Len’s finger around the nerve filled opening. This was not what he’d ever expected from his metahuman body and he let out the most ungodly groan of lust at the knowledge his body was made to do this. It was like the decision to be with Len was completely vindicated and he found himself pushing back to take more of Len’s finger before he made conscious thought of it.

“Honestly, kid,” Len chided him. “You’re allowed to take it slow.”

“Don’t need to,” Barry breathed. “Want you now!”

Len sighed, sounding disappointed but added another finger, sliding both in and out with ease as Barry rocked back and forth in time. Len slowed his movements, scissoring his fingers gently, opening Barry further. He adjusted the shape and his fingers brushed Barry’s prostate. He cried out, his whole body buzzing uncontrollably for a few seconds before he got himself under control.

“What the hell was that?” Len demanded, sounding shocked. His fingers had stopped moving, though didn’t withdraw.

“It happens sometimes,” Barry replied, panting. “The next step up from a shiver.”

“How did you explain that to your other lovers?” Len asked. His fingers resuming their movements, a third digit stretching him wider. Barry groaned, loud and obscene as Len’s fingers slid in and out. The stretch and burn were uncomfortable but gone soon enough, leaving only Barry’s desire for more.

“Why do you think there have been so few?” Barry panted, while Len worked at opening him. “Did you think…I was that naïve I’d try to…save myself…for Iris like that?”

Len paused. “Maybe, yeah.”

Barry huffed, pushing back on the fingers that had slowed down. “Think again, and I’d really appreciate it if you fucked me now.”

Len chuckled quietly and the fingers slid slowly out, Barry squirming at the loss of them. There was the sound of the tube clicking open and closed again and then Len was climbing up on the bed behind him, gripping his hips tightly.

“Slowly,” Len commanded him, softly. “We’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t have to rush.”

Barry sighed. “Alright.”

The feel of Len’s hot blunt member pressed to his opening drew a long breath from Barry and then Len was pushing inside. He let out a hissed breath at the stretch and burn. Even with Len’s efforts to open him up, he still felt far too tight to take Len’s thick cock and he tensed in anticipation of more pain. But his body responded as it had before, slowly taking away the pain and just leaving the sensation of pressure and pleasure as Len eased in and out.

“How does that feel?” Len asked gently, sounding curious rather than concerned.

“Full,” Barry panted. “God, so full.” He twisted around to look Len in the eye. “More, please!” he begged. He watched Len’s expression go from interested to outright lust and he took hold of Barry’s hips again, pushing further inside.

Barry dropped his head back down, groaning with a need he’d never felt before. He wanted all of Len, and he wanted him now. God the sensation was so different to anything he’d ever experienced but he didn’t want it to stop. He pushed back, a little at a time, just enough to let Len know he was ready to take more.  They were soon both puffing, rocking back and forth in slow time with each other, Len finally disappearing entirely inside him as he took his whole length. Len’s balls bumped against his arse, hot and heavy and Barry pushed back hard.

“Sooo…f-full,” he groaned out breathlessly, no thought to the words as the sensations took over his whole consciousness. “God, Len…yes!”

Len stopped there, not moving, instead his hands took over, stroking up and down Barry’s back, along his sides, light and tickling across his stretched buttocks, making Barry squirm and gasp as the waves of warm tingles raced across his sensitive flesh.

“Do you even know how beautiful you are?” Len demanded in a breathy murmur, his fingertips tracing along Barry’s shoulder blades and down the bumps of his spine. “Such perfect shape of curves and lines. Such perfect skin, pale as alabaster. But warmer and realer than any Greek god carved from marble.” Both hands slid up his back with flat palms, fingers splayed out to touch the most of Barry at once. “Hermes made flesh.”

Barry twisted round in shock, unbelieving at hearing such words come from Leonard Snart of all people. Len’s face was open, his lips slightly parted as he stared down at the expanse of Barry’s torso below him, awed appreciation etched across his features. The second he met Barry’s eye though the expression was gone, as if Len realised he’d actually said that out loud. His gaze dropped back to Barry’s arse, his hands went back to his hips, gripping tight again and he resumed his slow movements.

The sensations took away any words Barry would have spoken, although what he would have said to that? Len had just compared him to a god! Barry shivered in pleasure and embarrassment, more soft moans leaving him as Len increased the depth and hardness of his thrusts.

On one particularly deep thrust Barry grunted and Len leaned forward, laying his body over Barry, his lips leaving hot kisses against Barry’s neck and shoulders. “You’re so fucking tight,” Len whispered in his ear, his voice husky and dry.  “Gorgeous virgin boy, so fucking tight and hot on my cock.”

Barry whimpered as Len ground harder into him, the motion and words causing a hot flush over his skin and through his loins. His previous words had flattered and lifted Barry. These sent burning lust shooting straight to his cock, making it pulse and ache beneath him.

One of Len’s hands slid down his back to grip his arse cheek with long bruising hard fingers. “I’ve watched your arse since the first time we fought.  God, the number of times I’ve dreamed about what I’ve wanted to do with your arse. Now it’s mine.”

Barry stopped breathing, the words catching him unaware. Len had wanted him for that long? “Y-Yours,” he managed to stammer out.

“Beautiful, beautiful fucking boy. This first time will never come again. Savour what I’m about to do. Remember how I ruined you,” Len growled, the possessive lust in the statement tore a deep groan from Barry’s throat and he trembled again. Len leaned back, taking Barry’s hips in his long fingers and began to thrust in and out harder than before, faster.

Barry was at a loss for any sort of thought.  Len’s words entered his ears, going straight to his cock, and he found himself making noises he never knew were possible. When Len shifted slightly so each thrust hit that ball of nerve endings Barry lost it, buzzing uncontrollably while Len cried out in surprise, the overwhelming vibration nearly driving him over the brink.

“Holy…fuck,” Len ground from between gritted teeth, his movements ceasing as he tried to bring himself down.

Barry couldn’t apologise, too close to the edge to care. He couldn’t stand the loss of friction and began to shift his hips, desperate for Len to move with him. Barry lifted one hand, prizing one of Len’s from his hips and guiding it to his cock.

“God, please Len,” he begged.

Light fingers traced the burning, aching length of him, teasing mercilessly but giving no relief. Len lowered himself down again, breath warm in Barry’s ear. “Whose are you?”

“Yours Len,” Barry whimpered, in reply. “Yours.” He was rewarded with Len’s fingers brushing along his length again, the light touch to his highly sensitive flesh sending bursts of pleasure to the base of his spine.

“Who else’s?” the gravelly dry whisper made Barry shiver.

“No one, Len, just yours,” he gasped out as Len’s rough fingertips teased along his cock.

“Who do you belong to, Scarlet?” the name spoken soft and reverent.

“You, Len,” he whispered, desperately trying to push back against the thief but Len was already seated all the way in, there was no relief there.

“Who do you belong to, Barry?”

He groaned in frustration and desire. “You, Leonard. God…please…” the fingers strayed along his length again.

“Who do you belong to, Flash?” the words were a harsh and demanding growl, the fingers gone from his cock as if to deny him any pleasure in that second.

“Fuck…you, Cold, only you, please…god…I’m all yours…please…”

“That’s right,” the words were ground out hard and forceful. “All mine! My Scarlet, my Barry, my Flash…mine and mine alone!”

Barry trembled at the possessiveness of Len’s language and his tone. No one had ever tried to claim him, let alone so completely. The logical part of his brain told him that belonging to Captain Cold had to be a bad thing but right now Barry wasn’t being logical, he just _wanted_. Wanted to be Len’s, wanted Len to want him, wanted Len to fuck him until he could no longer see, and he wanted it all right now.

Len leaned in, firm fingers wrapping round Barry’s aching member. He slowed all his movements as he did, again teasing and drawing out the sensations, making sure Barry felt every pump and squeeze, every grind of their bodies moving together. Barry found himself whimpering continuously, desperate for Len to lift the speed, to bring them both to an end.

Waves of hot tingles began to pulse through him with each thrust but he held it all in, refusing to let the force running through him make him buzz again as Len slowly picked up the pace. It was the most exquisite agony, feeling the Speed Force rising in his system in time with each wave of hot pleasure sinking from his skin right down to his bones.

“Len!” he gasped out between shaking breaths, as the forces inside him finally threatened to burst. “Please I can’t keep – I need to. Oh, god, please I need to -.”

Len took pity on him pumping and pounding faster, driving deep and hard, taking them both to a finish. Barry cried out, riding a massive wave of pleasure and electricity that sparked over his body in yellow and orange waves, his whole body vibrating with Speed Force in a way it had never done before.  Len let out an agonised shout, the power of the pleasure running through them both sparking off him as well, as he burst in his own climax, collapsing forward onto Barry even as he pushed in a last few deep convulsive thrusts.

They both crumpled to the bed, panting, Barry sobbing as the last few waves of orgasm passed over him. After a few silent minutes where they both lay dazed by what had happened, Len lifted up, gently pulling his softening member from Barry, laying down beside him. Barry flopped onto his stomach, turning his head to look at his lover.

“What the hell was that?” Len breathed, staring at Barry with something close to awe.

“I have no idea,” Barry answered, his voice shaky and rough as gravel as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Never had one like that.” He reached out to take Len’s hand, only to have warm orange sparks leap between their fingers. They didn’t hurt, but it was clear there was still some residual energy flowing through Barry.

Len propped himself up on an elbow and tentatively touched Barry’s forearm. More warm sparks flowed across Barry’s skin as Len’s fingertips traced over his flesh, causing a different sort of buzz. Barry watched Len’s face closely as he moved light fingers up his arm, over his shoulder, down his back. Barry dropped over on his back, and Len traced across his chest, leaving a line of orange sparks and warm tingles that made Barry sigh in contented pleasure, the feeling only adding to the afterglow.

“You look like you’re wondering what you’ve got yourself into,” Barry said, seeing the conflicted expression on Len’s face.

Len shook his head. “Just surprised, is all.  Hadn’t expected this.”

“That makes two of us.” He reached out to trace over Len’s chest. “Are you feeling that?”

Len frowned, “No more than usual, why?”

“Must be just me,” he replied. “Right now, your touch is making nice tingles in my skin, like there’s still electricity running through me.”

Len smiled gently and moved to snuggle under one of Barry’s arms, resting his head on his chest. “Can’t let you miss out on that.” He kept stroking across Barry’s torso, Barry humming happily at the sensations, watching the sparks from the corner of his eye as he let himself drift with the sensations. Somewhere along the way, he fell asleep.

When he woke he was still on the bed, though he’d rolled over on his side and Len was pressed behind him, his arm wrapped loosely around his waist.  Len had thrown covers over them and Barry sighed, warm and safe here in Len’s arms and happily content. He shifted under the covers, realising the after effect of the Speed Force had left him, no more tingles. Part of him was disappointed but another part knew he couldn’t have lived with that sensation all the time. He grinned at the idea of Len working him up to a point where he could feel it again though. He laced his fingers through Len’s, lifting the limp hand to his face, kissing the fingertips, smelling and tasting the effect of Len’s attentions. He lowered the hand back to the bed after a few moments though. It was just too delicious and his body was already beginning to respond again. It made him aware he needed the bathroom, so he gently extricated himself from Len’s embrace.

Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror he smiled at how much Len actually had wrecked him. His hair was awry, his neck, shoulders, chest and thighs covered in the evidence of Len’s lust. He sighed, seeing the bruises were already beginning to fade, they’d be gone in a few hours. No woman had ever left him looking like this or feeling like this for that matter. His early sexual experiences had been pretty standard. Unpractised fumblings in embarrassed darkness hoping he didn’t make a mistake. By the time he got to Patty he’d been feeling more confident but their initial connections had been tentative as they learned what each other liked and wanted. Barry had never let it get beyond that point, letting her go before she was pulled too far into his world.

This was sex as he’d never experienced it before. It was harder, rougher, but no less intimate and definitely more intense. And it had a dynamic polar opposite to what he was used to. He’d never been picked up and pressed against a wall, never carried to bed by his partner, never told he was beautiful. He shivered as he stared at the evidence again. Fuck, he’d loved it. Loved Len taking the initiative, being in control, but not making him feel repressed in any way. Len’s strength, even in just his fingers left Barry weak with the need to be enveloped by it. His language had left Barry desperate to hear more, intoxicated by the idea Len wanted to possess him so entirely, leaving him dizzy at being someone’s that deeply and completely. And god, to be with someone who knew all of who he was, to be able to let go of the forces in his body – to be able to vibrate and spark as he needed, it was freeing in a way he’d never known, even before the lightning.

After relieving himself he went back to the bedroom, finding Len rolled on his back, hands behind his head, looking up at Barry with half-closed eyes. He looked delightfully spent.

Barry smiled gently and came to sit beside him, leaning down to kiss him softly before sitting back, running a hand over the buzz cut. “You look good.”

“I feel good,” Len answered, his voice rough with sleep.

“Yeah, you do,” Barry told him, with a grin.

Len grinned back, and shifted so his head was on Barry’s lap, looking up at him. Barry kept one hand on his soft velvety hair, the other resting on his chest. Barry became aware of just how many bruises Len had on him too. He didn’t remember making most of them.

“So, being my first time and all,” Barry said, not quite knowing how to word it so he just went with the classic. “Was it good for you too?”

Len let out a low chuckle, one hand coming up to caress Barry’s cheek. “Never better, Scarlet. Of course, you’re the first person I’ve slept with who can vibrate their body, so I have to say – unique.”

Barry flushed but grinned as well. “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Len replied, still smiling.

It was a gorgeous open smile, still gentle with sleep and reaching all the way to his eyes, which were currently soft and warm. It was a completely different face to Captain Cold.

“God, you’re handsome,” Barry breathed without thinking, tracing fingers down Len’s face. He suddenly wanted Len again and his metahuman body raced to fulfil the desire, rushing blood to his cock. Unfortunately, with Len’s head in his lap the swelling member nudged him in the cheek.

Len laughed and rolled off him. “Subtle, Barry, real subtle.”

Barry flushed bright red, feeling the heat not only in his face but down through his chest and Len continued to laugh. But he pulled him in as well, tugging the embarrassed speedster into a tight embrace.

“How about we go out to an early lunch?” Len suggested, the smile still in his voice. “The places here aren’t very upmarket but there are a few decent cafes that do all day breakfast.”

At that Barry’s stomach growled and he was suddenly torn between food and sex. The food won out though as he knew if he wanted to keep going with Len over the rest of the weekend he’d need the energy.

“Yeah, lunch sounds good,” he murmured into Len’s neck, still feeling embarrassed.

Len released him and they began to dress. He was incredibly disappointed to have to put on clothes again, beginning to feel happily free without them in Len’s presence. Len took him to a nearby diner where Barry ordered a full breakfast with extra bacon, extra eggs and extra hash browns. Len had the same without the extras but ordered a rack of toast for the table, probably sensing Barry would need that too.

They sat in a booth watching the world go by out the window. Barry felt amazingly loose and relaxed, sipping his coffee and wondering what it was he could possibly have done to deserve something this good. They were quiet, concentrating on their coffee and their own thoughts until their food arrived.

“Have you – have you really wanted me since our first fight?” Barry asked, cutting at his bacon.

Len frowned thoughtfully over his plate, his utensils pausing. “Well, at least since the train, when I realised how young you were and got to see your arse in that red leather for the first time that wasn’t at superspeed.”

Barry blushed not knowing how to respond to such a blatantly honest answer but feeling the effect of it. God, how could the man do this to him without even trying?

“What are you thinking, Scarlet?” Len asked, looking a little concerned at his silence.

“I’m thinking my jeans are getting tight again and if this table had a cloth I’d be under it and at you in a heartbeat,” Barry replied, trying for his own honest answer. It had the desired effect, Len’s cheeks coloured a little before he smiled.

“Do you know what happened before?” Len asked then, perhaps trying to distract from his own embarrassment.

“You mean at the end? I think holding in the Speed Force so I didn’t buzz meant it built up until it burst. When I came it was discharged. Did it hurt you?”

Len shook his head with a smile. “No, it felt incredible, warm sparks everywhere. Just wasn’t expecting it.”

Barry grinned. “Neither was I. Like I said, never had one like that before.” He frowned a little. “Which given my past partners was probably a good thing.”

“You’ve always had to hold back?” Len asked then.

“Since the particle accelerator, yeah,” Barry told him with a shrug. “And I’ve been too busy since then to worry much about a love life. I mean, the few times I’ve tried it’s ended before I got close enough to tell them I was the Flash, so yeah, put a cramp on what I could feel.”

There was sympathy in Len’s eyes for a moment before he went back to his food.

Barry went back to eating for a few minutes.  “Hang on, if you’ve wanted me for that long then -.”

“Yes, Barry?”

“I mean, turning up at Jitters, the art gallery, all the other times we just happened to meet, were you stalking me?”

Len laughed. “Well, I didn’t arrange those guys to beat you up, if that’s what your implying.”

Barry blushed again. “No, I mean -.”

“I know what you mean,” he replied, still grinning. “For such a smart young man you can be remarkably dense when faced with someone flirting with you.”

Flirting? All those times, Len had been flirting with him? Barry frowned. Of course, on some level he must have been aware, those encounters had always left him smiling afterwards. His face got even redder at the realisation. He really was dense.

“Sorry to make you work so hard,” he murmured.

“You know I love a challenge.” Len shrugged, as if it was unimportant. “Why do you think I was really at the wedding?”

Barry stared at him.

“Lisa can take care of herself, especially in a social situation like that.”

Barry eyes began to burn and he went back to his plate, shovelling in several mouthfuls to try and distract his brain.

“Barry?” the question was concerned, even troubled.

He looked up to find Len had put his cutlery down and was watching him with narrowed eyes full of worry.

“I just – I mean no one’s ever…chased me like that,” he finished, not knowing what other word could describe Len’s efforts. Barry was usually the one doing the chasing, as when he had to eat a ghost chilli to get Linda Park to go out with him. The role reversal stood out starkly to him now. Len’s efforts were gratifying and Barry began to understand why women made men jump through so many hoops.

“And don’t think I don’t appreciate how lucky I am to be the one to catch you.” Len told him, the gentle smile warming his eyes. “You’re gorgeous, Scarlet.”

Barry smiled at the compliment but blushed as well, not accustomed to hearing such intimate language directed to him by a man, but liking it coming from Len nonetheless.

That made something else occur to him. “If you were…chasing me, then why did you run at the wedding? And not visit me after the kidnapping?”

Len’s movements stopped again and Barry was sure he’d just asked something uncomfortable, but still wanted an answer.

“When I first started this,” Len began, as if choosing his words carefully. “It was only with the view to seducing you. That night in the garden, I suddenly realised you’d drawn me in a lot further than I’d ever intended.”

Barry grinned. “Leonard Snart freaked out?”

Len gave him a half-hearted glare but then nodded quickly. He started pushing the remnants of his meal around the plate, as if to distract himself. “As to the warehouse – I started to think maybe I’d made a mistake.”

“After everything I said to you there?”  Barry asked, confused.

“Not about you,” Len replied, with a shake of his head. “It was my life that put you in danger. When I saw what they did to you -. I thought it’d be better if I let you go, so you wouldn’t be drawn into it any deeper.”

“But you still texted me.”

Len nodded. “In the end I couldn’t help myself. I can be monumentally selfish and I wanted to have you.”

Len’s plate was close to empty and Barry was on the final stages of sopping up the last of the egg yolk.

“So, when we get back -,” he started, and Len looked up over his toast, his eyebrows raised in question. “Can I show you how much all that means to me?”

Len chuckled. “Yes.”

“I mean…god,” he muttered. “I still don’t know how all this works.”

“What are you trying to say?” Len asked, looking curious.

“I mean, I want to be the one -,” he flailed about for the right words.

“You want to be on top?”

Barry blushed yet again. He wondered if his face was going to melt from all the heat. “I guess so.”

Len was smiling. “I’d like that.”

Barry downed his last mouthful and sat back, trying to look calm but in reality his heart was beating like it wanted to burst out of his chest. He really did try to be patient as Len finished his last mouthfuls with the slow precision of a man unrushed, though it was clear from the amused expression on Len’s face as he paid, he was aware of Barry’s desire to be back behind closed doors. It took all Barry’s self-control not to grab Len up and speed him back to the safehouse, as the man seemed to delight in strolling as slowly as possible along the street, even stopping to look in some of the shop windows.

As they entered the apartment building Barry was straining at the limits of his patience and his jeans. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Anticipation is a fine aphrodisiac, Barry,” Len replied, with a sly smirk as he fit the key in the lock and let them in.

He’d barely got the door closed before Barry had him pressed to the wall in the hall, hands already pulling his shirt over his head and fingers pulling at the closure of his jeans.

“See what I mean.” Len grinned as Barry brought their mouths together.

Having let Len draw it out to this point Barry wasn’t about to let it drag on any further. He didn’t have to hide his speed with Len, didn’t have to try to be something he wasn’t, so he sped Len and himself out of their clothes and flashed Len into the bedroom, laying him down gently. He grinned at Len’s slightly disoriented expression before leaning in lay the length of him, kissing him slow and deep while running both hands across his stubbled head. Len’s whole body drawn out beneath him felt amazing and Barry was suddenly in no rush, wanting to luxuriate in the feel of Len against him.

“God, you do feel good,” Barry whispered in his ear, nibbling at his earlobe, his whole body sliding involuntarily against his lover.

He felt Len smile as he turned his face towards Barry’s cheek and kiss him soundly. Len’s hands slid lightly down his back to his butt and back to his shoulders. “Such beautiful soft skin,” he purred in Barry’s ear. “So pale, so young, so clean. Divine boy.”

Barry’s whole body shuddered at those words and he groaned, his already aching cock bucking against Len’s thigh. “Fuck I want you.”

“I’m right here, Barry,” Len said. “What are you waiting for?”

Barry leaned up, placing his hands on either side of Len’s head, looking at him seriously. “You really happy to do it this way?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Len looked confused.

“I guess, I know how much you like to be in control,” Barry told him. “You’re not just humouring me, ‘cause it’s my first time?”

Len chuckled and kissed him quickly. “You planning on forcing me to do anything I don’t want?”

“No, of course not.”

“Going to keep going if I say ‘stop’?”

“No.”

“Then I’ve got no problem giving you the control,” he murmured looking up at Barry with eyes again dilated with desire. “Fuck me as you please.”

Barry blushed deeply at the final words, but his cock jumped as well at the idea of fucking Len however he wanted.

Len felt the pulse against his leg and smirked. “Fuck me, Barry,” he said again, this time in a low husky whisper. “Hard and fast…slow and steady. However you want. You’re in control here.”

Barry’s cock jumped again and he groaned, diving down to gnaw at Len’s neck.

Len moaned quietly, his back arching into Barry’s body, his leg lifting slightly to grind harder against Barry’s cock.

As much as he wanted to lay with Len and feel the warmth of his body against him there was no way he could ignore what his dick was demanding of him, not once Len told him he was in control. He was already grinding against Len’s thigh too much to last too long so he pulled back, looking around for the tube of lubricant Len had earlier. It was on the far side of the bed and Barry grabbed it up, flipping it open.

“How do you want me?” Len asked, his eyes hooded, his voice low.

Barry swallowed. It wasn’t that he was unused to asking for what he wanted during sex, it was just this being an unfamiliar situation he was unsure how. “I – I want you just like that,” he told him. “I want to be able to kiss you, to see your face.”

Len smiled gently and nodded. He grabbed a pillow and placed it under his buttocks so he was lifted off the bed, raising his opposite leg, giving Barry access to him. Barry lubed up his fingers, and tentatively pressed to Len’s opening. As much as it had felt tight having Len’s finger inside him, it felt even tighter as he parted Len’s sphincter, pressing his fingertip into the hot wet interior. Len let out a hissed breath, and Barry felt him trying to relax as Barry slowly pushed further.

“That okay?” Barry asked, nervously.

“Yes,” Len moaned out softly, his hips shifting up to take more. “Keep going.”

Barry pushed in further until his entire finger had disappeared all the way in before he started sliding in and out. Len groaned softly, his hips rolling.

“Yes,” the thief breathed out, his chest rising and falling more rapidly. He opened his eyes to stare at Barry. “More.”

Barry obliged, adding a second finger. Len hissed again at the initial stretch, lifting his leg even further to spread himself open, and Barry was surprised at his flexibility. Barry’s cock, twitched with each of Len’s gasps, and Barry put a hand to it, slowly stroking himself in time with his finger movements as he eased Len open. He added more lubricant and a third finger before he shifted them around, exploring inside Len with slow twists of his wrist, looking for the sensitive spot he knew was in there. When he hit it Len grunted loudly, his back arching and convulsing as Barry stroked across it. He teased him for a while, running his fingers around the area but not fully rubbing it again, pleased that Len let out what could only be a groan of frustration as he rolled his hips again, trying to force Barry’s fingers into place. Barry smiled at getting some of his own back and leaned down to take Len’s hardened cock into his mouth even as he kept working his fingers in and out. Hearing Len’s gasps and feeling him buck as he took more of him in was highly satisfying and gave Barry the confidence move on. He pulled his fingers from Len, watching the thief open his eyes to stare at him.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” Len gulped out in a voice like dry gravel. “Fuck me, Scarlet.”

Len had to know what those words did, as a hot flush of lust ran straight into the base of Barry’s spine.

He was spreading lubricant at near superspeed. His own cock was bucking in such anticipation that he almost missed, nearly dropping lube all over the bed. He bit back a curse as he lined himself with up Len’s opening, the criminal’s leg lifted up Barry’s chest, so his foot rested on Barry’s shoulder.

And holy shit if that entrance wasn’t the tightest thing he’d ever felt. It practically squeezed the length of his penis as he slowly pushed forward. Despite his efforts at opening Len, the thief still groaned at that first entry, stretched even wider. Barry began to thrust in and out, slow and steady, making sure he was ready, not wanting to hurt Len at all. Len was groaning, his back arching again, each thrust causing a catch in his breath that Barry hadn’t heard before but was beginning to enjoy. Barry took his time, sliding in and out with growing ease until he finally disappeared all the way inside Len. He let go of a convulsive thrust then, feeling his testicles bump against Len as heated body pressed hard to heated body.

“So hot,” Len gasped out, his eyes closed, head thrown back. “…so hot…it burns…fuck Scarlet…your cock…so hot.”

Barry pushed the leg off his shoulder and grabbed Len’s forearm. “Come up here,” he commanded.

The thief opened his eyes and used his free arm to push himself up and Barry wrapped arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him in tight. Barry stared into those eyes, so wide blown with desire they were almost black before pressing their mouths together. For a long time it was all lips and tongues, Barry sucking on Len’s whole bottom lip and drawing his tongue into his mouth so he could suck on it like he had his dick a while ago. Len’s whole body shivered against him. He wasn’t even aware he started grinding in and out of his lover again until he felt the buzz start to build. He finally parted lips with Len, both of them panting for air as Barry stilled a moment.

“So, I’ll give you choice,” Barry said, swallowing hard and Len favoured him with an inquisitive raised eyebrow, that made Barry grin despite his rising passion. “I can buzz as I need, or I can save it up to the end. What would you like to do?”

“Well, let me see -?” Len began, sounding like he was going to take an hour to decide.

Barry wasn’t having that and vibrated on purpose, his whole body blurring against and inside the thief.

Len cried out in surprise, his back arching again and Barry lost his grip on him, the criminal falling back to the bed with an agonised groan. “Holy shit…Scarlet. That…that wasn’t fair,” Len panted, staring up at Barry in shock.

“Still felt good though?” Barry asked, with a grin.

Len gave him an exasperated look but nodded. “Buzz.”

“As you wish,” Barry replied, starting to thrust through his hips again, grinning all the while.

Len lifted his legs, wrapping them around Barry’s hips, his heels resting in the small of Barry’s back. Barry gripped his waist, holding him in place as he pushed harder and faster into his lover.

“Fuck…yes, Barry…harder,” he moaned, his hands clutching at Barry’s forearms, squeezing.

Barry did as he was asked, no longer worried, Len would tell him if anything was off. The tight grip of Len’s sphincter around his cock was driving Barry onwards, the Speed Force rising in him. But buzzing as he needed let some of it go, giving him some relief and Len a great deal of pleasure - if the way he cried and writhed and groaned was any indication. As Barry felt himself finally rising towards a climax he knew he wanted Len right there with him. He lifted one hand, and took up Len’s dick again, matching his strokes to the timing of his thrusts.

“Barry…,” Len groaned out breathlessly. “Barry…nnnmm…Barry…,” he continued to moan in time with each of Barry’s movements. The word rising in volume and plaintiveness as Len got closer and closer to an end. Each cry of his name drove Barry onwards desperate to hear it come again from his thief’s mouth and he found himself pounding harder and harder into him. Len’s back was arching and flexing, fingers clenching handfuls of sheets, desperately trying to ground himself on something as Barry pulled him apart. His eyes were shut tight, lips drawn back as he panted out each cry.

Barry had never thought he’d see Leonard Snart so open, so free, so clearly unaware of his surroundings in a way the master criminal would never have let himself be. It was gorgeous and Barry groaned out loud at the idea he was the one causing it. It pushed Barry over the edge with one last long buzz that took Len with him, the two of them bucking and moaning as Barry filled him and Len spurted all over his stomach and chest as Barry continued to stroke him through the last throes of his orgasm.

As they both came down Barry let himself collapse onto Len, resting on his chest, ignoring the sticky mess between them for the moment. He kissed Len gently, just letting his lips move slowly over Len’s without pressing forward. He lowered his head to Len’s shoulder.

“My thief,” he murmured with still panting breaths. “My gorgeous thief.”

Len’s responded by wrapping his arms around Barry, locking him tight against him. “Yours,” he whispered, and Barry shivered in delight.

They lay like that for a while before Barry finally rolled off him, going to retrieve a wet washcloth to clean them off. After he returned it, he came to sit beside him.

 “You okay?”  Barry asked, as Len continued to lie there, staring at the ceiling, his breath still a bit ragged.

“Mmm.” Len just hummed before turning his head to gaze at Barry. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a guy. Even longer since I’ve bottomed. I’d forgotten how good it could be.” He reached out and pulled Barry into his arms, Barry resting his head on Len’s chest as the thief wrapped him up. “And dear god, Scarlet, if you aren’t the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

Barry laughed, nestling tighter. “Ah, that’s just the powers. I’m pretty ordinary without them.”

“No, you’re not,” Len told him, emphatically. “Even without the vibrating you managed to do things to me.”

“Like what?” Barry asked, wondering what his inexperience could possibly have brought.

There was a long pause. “You made me _feel_.” It was a shaky whisper, infused with emotion in a way Barry had never heard from Len before.

Barry didn’t know what to say to that. Touched that Len would be so honest with him but also worried that maybe that wasn’t what Len had been hoping for from this. Whatever this was.

“Is that…a problem?” Barry wondered out loud, tentative and nervous.

Len’s arms tightened and he kissed Barry’s hair as if to reassure him it wasn’t. “It’s been, well…never really…that I let myself feel anything during sex. Never allowed myself to get close to someone.”

“You’ve never -?” he stopped. They were still at the very beginning of whatever this was, and Barry had no reference to know what was acceptable to talk about.

“Never what?”

Barry lifted up, resting his chin on Len’s chest so he could look at him. “Never been in love? No childhood infatuations? No high school crushes? No other criminals you clicked with?”

Len shook his head, looking thoughtful. “There was a woman once, I could say I felt affection for.”

“What happened?”

“She stabbed me in the back, figuratively speaking,” Len said with an ease that seemed to say he harboured no ill feelings towards the woman.

“I’m sorry,” Barry murmured and Len smiled at him but Barry couldn’t help the spike of sadness that shot through him for the man. Yeah, Barry had seen romance go badly as much as anyone but to have never let your guard down with anyone before, at Len’s age, it felt like so much lost opportunity. He lay his head back on Len’s chest.

“How are you feeling?”  Len asked quietly then, his cheek resting on Barry’s hair.

“Privileged,” Barry replied, just as softly.

“How so?”

He reached out to take Len’s hand, lacing their finger together and then bringing them to his lips, kissing Len’s scarred knuckles. “Knowing no one has ever seen you like that,” he said. “I’m honoured you trust me enough to let go that far.”

“Only for you, Scarlet,” Len replied, kissing his hair, his voice soft and thick with emotion. “Only for you.”

They didn’t say anything else and as Barry heard Len’s breathing even out, he let himself drift off, his thief’s heartbeat loud and steady in his ear.

It was early Saturday afternoon when he was roused by Len pulling out of the tangled embrace Barry had him in and rolling over, so he was laying flat on his stomach, sprawled across one half of the bed. He was still asleep and didn’t wake when Barry propped himself up on one elbow to look down at the criminal. It was then he noticed Len’s back. He pulled the sheet back entirely, so Len was completely exposed, right down to his buttocks. Barry could only stare in shock at what he saw. So far, he’d only glimpsed Len’s back and though he’d seen ink he’d thought it was just more of the same as his chest. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

The thief’s whole back from outer shoulder blade to outer shoulder blade and all the way to his lower back was one huge ripped skin tattoo that took Barry’s breathe away. The distant background of the image was a Victorian industrial city, all silhouettes of manufacturing buildings pumping out choking coal smoke and a sky full of zeppelins and dirigibles. But in front of that, covering most of it, were Len’s internal organs. But not the soft flesh kind. These were a bizarre mix of tubes and pumps, cog and wheels. Where his liver should be there was a ship in a bottle, floating in some kind of amber fluid, with corrugated tubes passing in and out. His kidneys were two wooden crates connected by dark rubber tubing. On and on the internal workings went, all gears and wheels, brass and glass. Over this there were his bones – ribs and spine inked out in incredible detail and shading, in grey steel, rusted in places, chipped and broken in others, cracked but holding together. Barry reached out to run a light fingertip along one of the ribs, understanding that the cracks and chips lined up perfectly with the whip marks.

Over all of this, cutting the image into several different sections were the long strands of flesh that held together the otherwise torn skin that framed the picture. These too were strategically placed to line up with some of the whip scars and Barry could feel them as he stroked the length of one, hidden by shading along the edge of the piece of skin. What drew and held Barry’s attention though was the heart. It was a brass case, in the shape of a human heart, but all cogs and vents, driven by pistons. It had four windows into the interior, two were filled, one with a raging fire, the other with the small delicate image of a woman ice skating. The other two were blank, Len’s bare skin visible as if they were waiting to be filled. It was wrapped in iron chains but the whole organ glowed with a delicate golden light, that broke through cracks in the casing. Barry lowered his head to the image, gently kissing the painted flesh with reverence, even as tears leaked over his lashes and dropped onto it.

“What are you thinking?” Len asked, quietly, not moving.

Barry sniffed. “I – ah, I didn’t know you were a fan of steampunk.”

Len huffed. “Oh, I love the period. Loved Conan Doyle from the first time a teacher gave me a copy in middle school.”

Of course, Len liked Sherlock Holmes. An emotionally closed off man with great intelligence, thorough planning and logical thinking, who had only one good friend in the world and a flair for the dramatic. What wasn’t there for Len to relate too?

“How old is this?”

“About four years,” Len replied, finally lifting up on his elbows and turning to look at Barry. “Took months to complete.”

“I can imagine,” Barry replied, taking a shaky breath.

“You don’t need to be sad for me Barry,” he said, looking and sounding a little defensive. It was clear he was focussing his thoughts on the scars, while Barry only had thought for the artwork.

“I’m not sad,” Barry told him, running fingers over the length of his back. “I’m happy.”

Len’s brow creased in confusion.

“Who’s the artist?” he asked.

“Her name’s Jade,” Len told him still looking confused. “Why?”

“She’s been doing your tats for a while now, hasn’t she?”

“About ten years. Why?”

“I want to meet her someday,” he said, a soft smile starting on his face.

“Why?”

“I want to meet one of the few people who gets you like I do,” Barry told him, pressing light kisses up his back until he reached the top, leaning in to kiss the thief, gently.

“Sure,” Len replied, looking intrigued at the request. He rolled over on his back, pulling Barry forward until he was laying the length of him. “But I have to warn you, she’ll talk you into getting inked.”

Barry grinned, looking down at the thief beneath him, resting his hands on his cheeks. “I’ve never thought about getting one. What would I even get?”

“Whatever you do, don’t just pick something off the wall. Make it unique.”

“What do you think would suit me?”

“I’m biased,” Len grinned, his hands running up and down Barry’s sides. “I like your skin just the way it is. Clear and unblemished.”

“Ah well, that decides it then, never getting one,” Barry told him, grinning at the surprise on Len’s face as he leaned into kiss him again. Barry was aware it was a bit of a forward statement to make right at the beginning of this thing, but he felt it was true nonetheless. He wanted to make Len happy and if him remaining un-inked made Len as happy as Len’s inked body made Barry then so be it. Len’s arms wrapped around Barry’s torso, squeezing tight, responding to Barry’s tongue in his mouth with a thrust of his own and they began a playful game for dominance that lead to further games.

 

The rest of Saturday and all of Sunday continued in the same manner. Sex and sleep and food and then more sex. Barry had never felt this insatiable for another person in his life. He seriously felt he couldn’t get enough of the criminal and was more than happy to keep exploring new ways to connect with the man. And holy shit if Len didn’t know a thousand ways to take Barry apart, always teasing him through the new experiences, seeming to delight in making Barry whimper and beg for release. And Barry found himself loving it. Loving the slow build to a grand end where he could release all the forces inside him without reserve. And what was just as good was afterwards, when Len would take him in his arms and hold him, tenderly putting him back together as they both sank into blissful oblivion.

When he finally stirred from another orgasm induced nap on Sunday, the shadows were lengthening and a glance out the window told him it was early evening. Had he slept that long? He couldn’t remember the last time he slept this long without waking from nightmares or being unable to sleep at all from the thoughts running through his head. He realised that this weekend he hadn’t been disturbed once during sleep, he couldn’t even remember dreaming while he’d been with Len.

Fingers running through his hair was what had woken him and he smiled as he looked up at Len, the thief’s fingers still carding across his scalp, causing a mass of warm tingles.

“Hey,” Barry greeted him, quietly. “Did you sleep?”

Len nodded. “Don’t have to ask if you did. You sleep like the dead, Scarlet.”

Barry smiled. “Joe and Iris will tell you I can sleep anywhere. But I haven’t slept this well in a long time. Think I’ve learned a few things about myself this weekend.”

“Such as?”

“A better understanding of the forces running through my body. I mean, I thought I understood but clearly I’ve got more to learn.”

“You mean the sparking?”

Barry nodded. “And just the general release of tension. I mean, this body is basically filled with Speed Force, always in motion, buzzing with electricity. If I don’t release it or use it up regularly I end up feeling like I’m going to vibrate out of my own skin. Most of the time I use it up just by running but when I can’t I tend to, well – jerk off a lot. The buzzing and vibrations tend to help. But for the first time since I got my powers, I actually feel normal right now. At ease, like it’s been tamed somehow.”

“So, it only takes two days of constant sex to get you back to normal?” Len asked, with a grin. “How unfortunate, Scarlet.”

Barry laughed. “Yeah, I know right.”

“So, what did you like best?” Len asked then, tracing fingers up and down Barry’s back.

“What do you mean?”

“Top or bottom?”

“Oh,” he said, realising what he was talking about. “I like both. Top was nice because I got to make you feel so good. Getting to see your face knowing I was the one making you come apart with such pleasure – yeah that was fantastic. Bottom was good too, I liked it with you being in control, driving me to an edge and tipping me over it. God, that was so good.” He leaned up on one elbow, looking Len in the eye. “But you know what I liked best?”

“Tell me.”

“The way you talk,” Barry told him, simply. “Whether it was praising me for doing well, or the unending flow of foul language about what I was doing and what I was like - that all went straight to my cock and drove me insane.”

Len smiled lazily and reached out to stroke his cheek gently.  “My good boy likes dirty talk?”

Barry grinned, feeling a strange but pleasant twinge at his use of the word ‘my’. “Something new I’ve learned this weekend.”

“What other kinks do you have, I wonder?”

Barry’s grin widened. He’d never considered himself as having a ‘kink’ before. “Please, tell me we can find out?”

Len chuckled. “God yes, I intend to find every single one, Scarlet.”

Barry looked at his watch and grimaced.

“Somewhere to be?” Len asked, his expression questioning.

“I told Joe I’d be home tonight to have dinner with him and Wally,” Barry replied with a sigh. He honestly wanted to blow it off and stay here but he had to go home sometime and there was the problem of fresh clothes and showers and work the next day. He slid up Len’s body, kissing him long and slow. “Would much rather stay here.”

Len smiled. “I get it. Go, get to know the new kid.”

Barry let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“Not a fan?”  Len asked, curious.

“No, he’s a nice guy,” Barry replied. “There’s just this resentment that’s making things tense between us.”

“His or yours?”

“Both,” Barry admitted, with a grimace.  “I think he resents the fact I got the family he should have had all these years. And the fact Joe and Iris keep telling him how great I am – trying to _make_ him like me – it just makes it worse.”

“And yours?”

Barry grinned but there was no humour in it. “You’re not the only one who can be selfish. Joe and Iris are so enamoured of the fact they have a _real_ son slash brother, they’re going out of their way to make him feel accepted.  Sometimes, I feel like they’re pushing me out little by little. I mean, that’s not the way it is, not at all, but when everything else starts to get to me, it’s one of the dark thoughts that plays on my mind. The idea that if push came to shove they’d pick him over me – and I wouldn’t blame them, but it’d still hurt.”

“What about your own dad?”

Barry huffed. “Tugging the sore points, eh?”

“Don’t need to answer,” Len told him, rubbing his back gently again.

Barry shrugged letting the tingles down his spine soothe him. “He left Central as soon as he got out of jail. Said something about not wanting me to worry about him while I was trying to be the Flash. Maybe he just didn’t want to have to worry about me.”

“Can’t be easy, after all the support you gave him.”

“Hurts like hell,” Barry admitted. “All the shit I went through, so he’d eventually be acquitted, and he bails on me.” Barry sat up, running hands over his face, shaking himself. “Enough of this crap. It’s ruining the best weekend of my life.”

“Really?”  Len asked, sitting up with him. “The best?”

Barry kissed him quickly. “Absolutely the best – ever.”

“Don’t peak too soon,” Len told him with a smirk. “You don’t know what I’ve got planned for next weekend.”

“And that would be?” Barry asked with a grin.

“Let’s just say I want to find out if four times a night is true,” Len told him, pulling him in to kiss him again. “And then I want to see if I can make it five…or six…or even…seven,” he whispered slowly in Barry’s ear, causing Barry to shiver in anticipation.

Barry stared at him a moment before smiling. “Here? Friday night?”

“Yes,” Len purred succinctly, in a way that spoke volumes about what he planned to do with Barry in the future.

Barry kissed him again. He kissed him for a long time before he finally got up to say goodbye.

 

When Barry arrived home, dinner was nearly ready.  Joe was still waiting for Wally to arrive.  After a quick hello Barry sped upstairs for a short shower and a change of clothes. He then helped set the table and was preparing to get the casserole out of the oven, humming happily as he moved around the kitchen.

“So, who is she that she can keep you out all weekend and put you in such a good mood?”  Joe asked, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Barry hesitated.  He didn’t want to lie to his foster father but there was no way he was going to admit he’d spent the last two days in bed with Captain Cold. Even thinking about that now Barry wanted to laugh out loud.

“It’s someone I’m not ready to talk about,” Barry answered. That much was the truth.

“Like that one-night stand that didn’t turn out well?”  Joe asked, his expression knowing.

Barry shrugged but smiled.  “Something like that.”

There was a knock at the door announcing Wally’s arrival.  “We’re gonna talk about this more,” Joe told him, pointing at him as he made his way to the door.

Barry smiled again, simply unable to keep the smile off his face.

It was the same for the rest of the week.  He just couldn’t stop smiling.  The weekend had been the best thing he’d had in so long.  Something that felt unburdened by everything else in his life.  He so wanted to keep Len separate from the Flash, from Zoom, CCPD, his family, everything.  It had unexpected benefits.  He worked late a few nights, getting his cases caught up and spent the rest of the nights patrolling as the Flash, letting the Speed Force and wind in his face lighten his soul more than any time in the past.  He was on time to the several crime scenes he was called to. That and his constant good mood earning a knowing look but no comment from Captain Singh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Barry and Len get together for another date (no sex this time, just lots of conversation and getting to know each other)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick gives Len a bit of a talking too about his love life and Barry and Len get together for their second date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a little late with this chapter. It's ended up being a lot shorter than the others. This one has been a real grind. I felt the information and scenes needed to be here but they don't really advance the plot too much, so sorry if it all seems a bit chatty and not much of actually 'getting on with it". Next chapter begins the full dive into the season 2 plots (with quite a few twists) so things should start moving along at a better pace.

                Len leaned over the table, the blueprints spread out before him, pen twirling between his fingers. He'd been staring at the plans for over half an hour but couldn't get any of the details to stick in his brain. He kept being distracted by too many other things. How he could have finished this by now if he'd still had STAR Labs facilities and tech. How Ramon as tech support and Snow as field medic had been invaluable in Barry's rescue. How having the larger team he could trust had definitely been more efficient for that job. How light Barry had felt in his arms...

Dammit, he'd let himself go there again. He'd been trying all morning to not think about the speedster. He couldn't recall a more mind-blowing weekend of debauchery in his life. The kid’s innocence, enthusiasm and desire the learn and experiment was beyond anything Len had ever considered possible with the young hero. Add to that the things Barry could do with his metahuman body and Len could barely describe the contented (if exhausted) bliss the kid had left him in.

As much as the act itself had been incredible it was everything surrounding it that was filling Len’s mind. He never stayed the night after sex, so when he’d woke up on Saturday morning to Barry’s warm smile, the young man’s body tangled around him, hot and pliant, there’d been this new pleasant sensation curling in his gut that Barry was happy to still be there with him. The kid’s explorations of his tats and scars had been strangely freeing. He’d read awe on his face, artistic appreciation in his enquiries, sympathy and understanding in the way he’d not asked about the whip scars, but none of the sadness and pity he’d been expecting. Barry seemed more enthralled than put off, and Len found himself wanting to believe the speedster when he’d declared his body ‘gorgeous’. They had declared nothing for each other, made no promises of anything and yet Len had suddenly found himself claiming the young man as his own – and Barry had allowed it, again with that beautiful, dangerous trust that come without hesitation. There were also no words to describe the hitch in Len’s heart when Barry had declared him ‘his thief’.

The nervous energy of anticipation that Len had been infused with since saving Barry outside Saints and Sinners, had transformed over the course of the weekend into a warm glow. He’d could only remember ever having felt this once before in his life. It was the moment they’d placed Lisa in his arms and he knew for certain that as long as she was alive he’d never be alone again, that he’d be there for her no matter what. It was happiness. It was such a rare sensation he didn’t quite know what to do with it. All he knew right now was that he wanted more of it and so hadn’t hesitated in asking Barry to see him again and again there was a weird hitch in his heart when Barry had been more than excited to say yes. He’d spent more time this morning planning what he wanted to do with Barry this weekend than the job in front of him.

“You gonna keep thinking about Red or actually do something?” Mick’s annoyed growl cut through his thoughts.

Len scowled at him. That arsonist was slurping a coffee and eating an apple danish. Len’s own morning tea was sitting on the small table beside him untouched. He took a sip, pleased to see Mick had remembered to get him the extra shot of expresso when he'd picked them up.

“Don’t know what you mean,” Len snarled back, taking a bite of the danish.

“Sure you don't,” Mick replied. “He clearly isn't the reason you disappeared all weekend or look like some toothless vampire’s been gnawing at your throat. Or why you were humming to yourself this morning.”

Len frowned. He didn't even recall humming. But then it wasn’t something he ever consciously did. That must have been why Lisa looked like she'd won the lottery this morning. Both she and Mick knew humming was a sign Len had got laid and righteously so. If he'd been humming there was no point in denying it, he was already screwed.

“What of it?” he demanded.

Mick lifted an incredulous eyebrow. “Screwing the enemy is bad for business.” He stated.

Len sighed, staring down at the blueprints, realising his heart was no longer in this heist. “Is he the enemy?” The words slipped out in a whisper before he'd considered them.

“Hah!” Mick grunted. “Obviously not if you plan to keep fucking him. I'm just thinking it’s bad for business considering how distracted you've been today. Not the mention what happens when he tries to stop you from stealing stuff.”

“I get it Mick!”

“Of course you do! You never do anything without a plan. I'd just like to know what the plan is. Given it's going to affect me and your baby sister.”

“What if I said I don't know?”

“Then I'd say Red has short circuited your brain and you need to stop thinking with your dick.”

“When have I ever thought with my dick?”

“Never!” Mick exclaimed, harshly. “Which is why this is worrying me.”

Len took another sip of coffee and stared down at the table, seeing nothing. Mick and Lisa were the only two people in the world who could talk to him this bluntly and not end up nursing injuries. Sometimes Mick still did. But the fact he was even willing to discuss Len’s love life was a sign of how worried Mick truly was.

Mick sighed and grimaced. “How are you feeling?”

Len’s gaze snapped up to him. “Excuse me?” They didn’t do feelings!

Mick shrugged. “I’m willing to endure whatever conversation stops you day-dreaming and gets you back to work.”

Len closed his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath. If Mick was willing to ask about his emotional state it meant, one: he was further agitated than even he realized, and two: Mick was trying very hard not to punch him at this moment (his usual go to when Len needed a stern reminder about life).

“He made me feel young,” Len whispered, thinking back to those stolen hours filled with more than just lust, but with Barry’s sweet laugh and boundless enthusiasm.

“And?”

Len threw the pen down in disgust. “And that made me realise just how old I’m getting.”

Mick chuckled. “Ah! Mid-life crisis time.”

“Fuck off!”

Mick huffed in amusement. “You’ve been fucked up ever since you offed Lewis. Haven’t known what to do with yourself now he’s not hanging over your head anymore.”

Mick had been like this for over thirty years, but Len continued to be surprised by his perception. He’d said none of this to Mick, yet his friend knew what had been eating at him.

“You know you could have been through all this and be over it, if you’d killed him years ago like I told you too.”

Len shifted and ate more danish. “You know very well why I didn’t.”

Mick grunted in disgust. “One decent act doesn’t make up for the fact he was a monster the rest of his life.”

“Not what we’re talking about,” Len reminded him, not wanting to go into that particular topic.

“No, we’re talking about you fucking The Flash and clearly not wanting to do this job.”

Len shifted again. “Something’s different. Something I can’t define.”

“With young Flash?”

“With everything,” Len replied. “I’ve got a clear record, got away with killing Lewis, found a…”

“Pretty doll to warm you up,” Mick finished for him, with a lecherous grin.

Len grimaced at the idea of anyone thinking Barry was nothing more than a bed warmer. He ran hands over his face. “Maybe I am having a crisis,” he finally admitted. “But it seems the right time for one. Things are in exactly the right place for me to start doing something different.”

“Like what? Crime is all you know,” Mick reminded him.

“And that’s the problem,” Len replied, with a sigh. “But do I need to keep going back to this -.” He gestured at the blueprints in front of him. “When the time is ripe for something new? It’s not like any of us are hard up for money.”

“You’ve never done this for the money,” Mick reminded him. “That was only ever a way to keep score. You do it for the adrenalin rush. Where are you going to get that? Playing hero as The Flash’s sidekick?”

Len scowled. “Not my first option.”

Mick drained the last of his coffee and placed the disposable cup down in the middle of the blueprints. Normally Len would have reprimanded him, there was never any food or drink allowed on the planning table. But then they both knew there was no planning going on here.

“Then you better work out a few more,” Mick told him, putting on his bike jacket. “You know what happens when we both get bored.” He turned and left the room.

Len was still staring at the blueprints when he heard the deep growl of Mick’s bike leaving the garage. Yeah, boredom was to be avoided at all costs. They’d both learned over the years that idle hands led to irritable behavior and short tempers, quickly leading to lots of bruises, and on one occasion a couple of broken bones. Len grimaced again and abandoned the table entirely, no longer able to even keep up the pretense of planning.

He hated this. Accompanying the strange happiness was also suddenly doubt and indecision. After Barry’s kidnapping he’d been wise enough to admit he was in love with the young hero, and as pleasant as that sensation was, it was also leading to a feeling of vulnerability he hadn’t let himself feel since his childhood. He’d lived his whole life knowing exactly what he was doing from one day to the next. Now he had no idea what he was going to do this afternoon! There was only one thing he was certain of. He was on a new path and that path included Barry Allen as an integral part.

 

The next Friday night found Barry at Len’s door again. This time he could smell something amazing inside and when Len opened the door the scent of garlic and tomatoes hit him. The thief was again casually dressed and barefoot and Barry quickly shed his own shoes. Normally he would have just kicked them to the side but for Len’s sake he put them neatly lined up near the door.

“Barry,” Len greeted him, watching him closely, still looking a little tense, even though he had no need to be.

“Hey,” Barry replied, sliding his arms around Len’s neck.

Len relaxed considerably as Barry leaned in to kiss him hello, the criminal’s hands finding their way to his hips, pulling him in firmly against him.

Barry grinned as he pulled back. “Did you think I’d be hesitant?”

“Guess I was wondering what you’ve be thinking about this week,” Len told him.

“I’ve been thinking about how much I missed you,” Barry replied, still smiling. He put his hands to Len’s shoulders and pushed him back against the wall, pressing the line of his body against the thief and kissing him again. “And what we talked about before I left last week.”

Len hummed as if trying to speak but Barry’s tongue was too far down his throat to be able to get any words out. He relaxed and let Barry have his way for a minute, Barry revelling in the feel of their mouths and tongues joined together again. God, he’d missed this in the last week. It was far too soon before Len was pushing him away gently.

“Before you get too excited,” Len told him, with a knowing smile. “Let’s have dinner.”

Barry gave him a disappointed pout but then smiled. “Alright.”

The lights were low again except for the kitchen and this week the table was already set. Len again held the chair out for him and this time Barry took it with a smile.

“You pour the wine,” Len said. “I’ll be right back.”

Barry did as requested, noting there was already a large bowl of mixed salad and a small glass jug that looked like homemade dressing. Barry took a sip of wine while waiting for Len to return, humming contentedly when it was just as nice as last week, and a few moments later Len was back with a large bowl of pasta and a plate of garlic bread.

“This smells amazing,” Barry commented, taking a deep breath.

“It’s just Bolognese,” Len told him. “But please, start.”

It was a large bowl of spaghetti with the meat sauce already mixed through and Len had shaved large thin pieces of parmesan cheese across the top. Barry really wanted to dive in but decided to take his time and start small, just to be polite. He took a large scoop of salad and then some pasta, twirling it around a fork and taking a mouthful. He chewed and swallowed quickly, biting his tongue in his haste. 

“Oh my god, Len this is fantastic!” Barry exclaimed, taking another deep breath of the heavenly smell.

“Thank you,” he replied, with a smile. “I’m glad you appreciate my efforts.”

“Oh, I appreciate _all_ your efforts.” Barry gave him a quick wink. “But this is the best pasta. You made this from scratch?”

Len nodded, taking a bite of his own pasta. “It’s the veal and pork mince that makes it. Gives a better result than plain beef.”

Barry stopped before taking his next bite, realising there was a lot he still didn’t know about Len. “Where did you learn to cook?”

He looked down at his plate, twirling the fork thoughtfully. “After mom left dad wasn’t much of a cook, we were living mostly on frozen meals and takeaway. Lisa missed the cupcakes mom used to make and one weekend to keep her quiet I made them for her. They weren’t the same but they weren’t terrible either, so I thought I could start cooking for Lisa. It went on from there.”

“Did -?” he started but then stopped. It wasn’t his place to ask. He took another bite of pasta, making sure to chew slowly and really savour the flavour of Len’s food.

“Did what?” Len asked, his brow drawn together seeing Barry was uncomfortable.

“Just, how did Lewis react with you cooking? You were still quite young then.”

He took up the dressing and drizzled some onto his salad before answering. “He didn’t care much, as long as his stomach was full. That and the kitchen was kept clean. Had to make sure there was no mess when he came home.”

He didn’t look up from his plate for a long time, concentrating on his food, the twist of the fork slow and precise. There was no splattering of pasta sauce or dropping of spaghetti. Barry wondered if Len’s bent for everything neat and tidy was a leftover of his childhood with Lewis. He could only imagine what it had to have been like, not being able to leave your toys out or make a mess in the kitchen. Someone with Barry’s scientific curiosity would never have survived in such a household, not with baking soda volcanoes and chemistry sets causing bursts of smoke and foul smells.

“Can I ask a personal question?” he asked, tentatively. “You don’t have to answer.”

“You can ask,” Len said with just a little defensiveness coming through his calm mask.

“Were things always bad with Lewis?” he asked. “I mean, I only ever met him that once, when he was at his worst. But he had started out a cop. He must have wanted to do good at some point.”

“My dad was never ‘Father of the Year’ but he never laid a hand on us, not until he’d gone to prison for the first time,” Len answered, still looking at his plate. “But his moral compass was never very straight. Some of his stories around the dinner table – even when mom was still there – were about he and his partner talking crims into giving up their take in return for not arresting them. I think that’s how he paid for our first new car. He used to try and justify it by telling us that bad money could do good, if it was in the hands of people who used it wisely. One of his many ‘lessons’.”

Barry grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“After he came out of prison he was definitely worse. I think the fact his fellow cops had turned him in, turned him against not just the law but all people, us included.” He took a sip of wine. “He started drinking a lot more and went into the criminal life full time.  It made for an…inconsistent…upbringing. If he had a good score he’d give us expensive presents but if things went wrong he’d – well, I’d try and hide Lisa as much as possible.”

Barry grabbed up a piece of bread, still able to appreciate the perfect balance of garlic butter and herbs even with the awkward topic he’d introduced. “When did he -?  Sorry, I’ll shut up now.” He took another bite of pasta.

Len huffed. “You’re allowed to ask Barry, just so long as you realise I might not always answer.”

Barry flushed a little, still looking at his plate. “When did he start taking you along on jobs?”

“I was ten the first time,” he told him. “I was thin and scrawny. I had little hands, I could get into small spaces and do the things he couldn’t.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Len frowned, as if considering. “Strangely I enjoyed the rare praise he’d give me when things went well. But for the most part I was always just relieved I did what he wanted and got away without being put down for being too slow or too loud. He was short tempered, highly critical and quick to punish.”

“You don’t seem to have suffered the self-esteem problems some people might have with that level of abuse,” Barry commented, then grimaced. God, he was so pushing the boundaries with Len tonight, he had to stop before the man clammed up and shut down.

Len grinned. “Because pretty soon I was better than him at picking a lock or disabling an alarm. I could also pick out the faults in his plans. He never took my advice, but I always knew by the end of the job if my plan would have worked out better. When I was seventeen and he’d just been sent to jail again, I pulled the same job he’d been sent down for. I knew I was better. I knew Lisa and I didn’t need him anymore, not for anything. That’s when I started to enjoy it.”

Barry smiled. He’d always known Len was intelligent and resourceful. He wondered what the man’s life would have been like if he’d had a better upbringing – parents who lifted him up, gave him the opportunities he was worthy of, supported him in his dreams. He reached out to take Len’s free hand, running a thumb over his knuckles, scarred from so many fights in the past. Part of him wished he could change his past, another part knew he wouldn’t be sitting with the same extraordinary man if he did.

“And what about you?” Len suddenly asked. “How was Barry Allen’s life after his mom’s murder?”

Barry baulked, wondering if Len was somehow getting back at him for bringing up a difficult topic, but there didn’t seem anything accusatory in his expression, just intense interest.

“Um, it was shit for a long time,” he admitted, taking a drink of wine. It emptied the glass and Len refilled it for him. “I knew for a fact dad was innocent but no one, not even Joe, believed me. I was always the smallest kid in class and being a science geek didn’t make it any better when it came to bullies. They seemed to love the fact I was teacher’s pet and took it out on me. They’d beat me after class ‘cause I was an easy target, all the time telling me they were trying to teach me a lesson –,” he nodded to Len with raised eyebrows. “- to stop me from being a criminal like my dad.”

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at his plate in silence when he felt Len’s thumb tap against the side of his hand. He realised his knuckles were white and he was squeezing the thief’s hand to the point of pain.

“Sorry,” he muttered and went to pull away but Len caught his retreating hand, holding it gently.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Ah, it’s just –,” he looked Len in the eye seeing the concern on the thief’s face. “I could have been, I mean, I almost was – a criminal.”

Len raised an eyebrow, his expression becoming astonished. “Now why do I find that hard to believe?”

Barry smiled sadly. “Everything I did from the age of eleven up until early this year was to try and get my dad out of prison. And when I was in my teens, that took the form of trying to find ways to break him out of prison.”

“You were planning to break him out of Iron Heights, as a teenager?” Len sounded disbelieving.

“Yeah,” Barry replied. “I had the whole thing planned out, I’d got copies of simple layouts of the prison and then extrapolated where the rest should be and also from what I could see when I went to visit dad. Even found out the name of the company that makes the prison uniforms. I had the whole job displayed on a big board I kept behind a couple of posters in my bedroom. But I knew there was more than the plans, so I had to develop other skills. I knew I’d have to pickpocket keys and IDs from guards and also pick locks I couldn’t get keys for, so I started to practice.”

“Barry Allen, pickpocket?” Len was grinning now, looking amused at the idea. “How terrible!”

Barry flushed but was starting to grin. “Don’t laugh, I was actually pretty good at it.”

“Really?” He sounded skeptical, a trace of Cold drawl coming through.

“Yes, I was,” he told him. “I used to practice on the kids at school, grabbing wallets or other items. Never stole anything. I’d always give it back to them right away, tell them I saw it fall out and picked it up for them. My crowning achievement was lifting the principal’s wallet.” Barry laughed at the memory. “He was so grateful I’d found it and returned it to him!”

Len chuckled. “I may need a display of this skill, Barry. Just to make sure you aren’t telling tales.”

“Oh, I am so many years out of practice,” Barry replied. “I don’t think I could do it now, not without my speed.”

“Why did you stop?”

He grimaced. “Joe found the plans behind the posters. You have no idea the talking to I got. Not to mention the month’s grounding.”

“Ouch.” Len grimaced in sympathy.

“But I still have the plans. They’re in a box up in my wardrobe.”

“Would you show me sometime?” Len asked, the smile gracing his face now soft and understanding.

“Uh, yeah,” Barry replied, with a bright smile. “If you’re interested.”

“I’d love to see what sort of job Barry Allen had planned,” he said with a nod.

“When I think back on it now, it would have been an idiotic thing to try and pull off. If it hadn’t been for Joe and Iris, giving me all the support I needed – I could have turned out a lot differently. They gave me everything I needed to turn into a superpowered vigilante doing good on the wrong side of the law.” He grinned at Len and the thief chuckled in return, squeezing the hand he was holding, lacing their fingers together.

With his free hand Barry plucked a piece of parmesan from his plate and popped it in his mouth, letting out a contented moan at the sharpness. He grabbed a piece from the bowl, closing his eyes as he pressed it to the top of his mouth with his tongue, letting the gorgeous umami flavour run across his palate.

“God that cheese is good,” he murmured.  “That’s not ordinary parmesan.” He opened his eyes and got up from the table, Len watching him with a confused expression. He went to the fridge and pulled out the roll of plain paper, pulling it apart to reveal the large wedge of cheese. He looked at the words printed on the outside of it. He couldn’t read what they said.

“This is imported,” he said, holding it up to show Len.

“I am aware.” Len looked amused.

“From Italy!”

“That’s what the fromagerie told me.”

“But – how much did this cost? I mean -.”

“Quality ingredients make all the difference to the end result, Barry,” Len stated emphatically, standing up and coming to join him at the kitchen counter. “What’s wrong?”

Barry stared at the cheese in his hand. “Just this, the wine, I think this is the most expensive dish I’ve ever eaten – anywhere!”

Len chuckled, taking the cheese from him and placing it on the bench before drawing him into his arms. “You’re worth it, Scarlet.” He kissed Barry’s forehead before leaning in, so they were pressed together. “And to see the look on your face when you eat is more than worth it. The way your eyes close so slowly and your smile lights up your face as you chew. You look beautiful. I’m glad to be the one to make you look like that.”

Barry flushed, still getting used to this level of intimate language with Len. “You realise that as a speedster I eat over ten thousand calories a day just to function normally. With all the running it’s a _lot_ more.”

“Didn’t know the numbers.”

“And you realise that now I know you can cook I’m gonna expect this more often.”

“How do you think I was planning on keeping you coming back?” Len smirked.

“Oh, I think you have a lot of ways to keep me coming back,” Barry replied with smirk of his own, leaning in to kiss Len slow and gentle.

Len smiled, soft and open, causing Barry’s breath to catch. “Come on, let’s finish dinner. You’ll need the energy for when we get to the other ways.”

Barry followed him back to the table and they finished eating, Barry cleaning up afterwards at superspeed. Len watched in amusement as Barry zipped back and forth, while finishing his wine.

“So,” Len said, leaning back in the chair as Barry stopped before him with a smile. “Do you have any energy left for other things?”

Barry’s answering grin was downright filthy. “Absolutely. All the protein and carbs will keep me going all night.”

He watched the slow smirk spread across Len’s face as the thief rose from his chair with practiced ease, taking Barry by the hips and pulling him in. “All part of my master plan, Scarlet.”

Barry wrapped arms around his neck, simply humming in contentment as he leaned in to kiss the criminal.

 

He was resting back in Len’s arms in the early hours of the Saturday morning, listening to the thief’s steady heartbeat in his ear when his stomach growled loud and persistent.

“That’s my cue to make breakfast,” Len mumbled, not opening his eyes.

“You don’t have to,” Barry told him. “I’ll get us something.”

It took all of five minutes, plus the time the barista took to make their coffees, for him to bring back a large box of pastries from a local bakery. By that time Len was sitting up in bed, and took the proffered coffee with ease, taking a large sip.

“Right sugar?”  Barry asked, still getting to know Len’s likes and dislikes.

Len smiled over the top of the cup. “Perfect.”

Barry grinned and climbed back onto the bed next to his lover, opening the box between them. “Eat. The pastries just came out of the oven, they’re still warm.” He took one, taking a large bite.

Len studied the contents of the box for a few moments before making a selection, reaching out with deliberate movements to make sure he didn’t drop any crumbs.

After breakfast in bed, Barry shed his clothes again and simply snuggled up to Len, the older man taking him under one arm and holding him close.

“Do Lisa and Mick know where you are?”

“No. But they definitely suspect.”

“Are you planning to tell them?”

“No. I like my privacy, even from them at times,” Len replied, fingertips sliding up and down Barry’s back in a way that made Barry shiver with contentment. “What about you? Team Flash know you’re screwing Captain Cold?”

“No way,” he replied, with a chuckle.  “Can you imagine what Joe would say if he knew? Besides I have other reasons for keeping you secret.”

Len looked down at him, eyebrow cocked expectantly.  “Such as?”

Barry thought for a moment, wondering how to word what he wanted to say. “You know you’re one of the bravest, strongest people I’ve ever met, right?”

Len huffed.  “You think that?”

“I know that,” Barry told him, firmly.  “After everything you’ve gone through, you could have let that define your life.  But you didn’t let yourself become a victim.  You made yourself better.”

“A better thief,” Len asserted.

“The best thief!  You used your intelligence and skills. I challenged you to get better by making you lift your game, you did. I challenged you to get better by not killing anyone, you did.  You didn’t need to fall back on something as easy as violence, not like – some others.”

Len shifted, clearly knowing Barry was talking about his father.  “So, I’m a secret why?”

“Being The Flash comes with a lot of responsibilities, add to that the threats from other metas and well, I’m always worried for Joe and Iris, not to mention the STAR labs guys. I let Patty go because I didn’t want her in danger. There are already too many people exposed because of their closeness to me.”

Len grinned.  “You’re worried for me, Scarlet?  That’s sweet but I’m more than able -.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Barry cut him off.  “It’s just after everything I’ve seen, all the other metas Zoom has been sending through the breaches,” he paused, swallowing down a lump of emotion. “Zoom himself. There are things I can’t predict.  There has to be someone I’m not worried about. I want that to be you.  If no one knows, no one can use you against me or put you in danger because of me.” He looked up at Len. “You understand?”

“Exactly the way Wilks tried to use you against me? Why do you think _I_ don’t plan to tell anyone?” Len nodded, a soft smile gracing his features, the genuine kind that caught Barry’s breath in his throat and made his heart quicken. Barry shifted, wrapping one arm around Len’s neck and bringing their lips together, holding tight to the man who was changing his life in so many ways.

After that conversation Barry was sure Len understood why they had to keep, whatever this was, a secret and since Len wasn’t telling anyone either, he felt comfortable that things would easily continue the way they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: When someone with the seeming speed of the Flash steals the Rogues guns, there's only one place Len can think of to find them again!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco has a plan to slow down Zoom by trying to recreate the abilities of another metahuman by the codename "Turtle". Unfortunately for Barry and Team Flash they have to find him and get past his powers before they can use them. Meanwhile Iris and Eddie are back from honeymoon, Wally is AWOL and Len and the Rogues Guns have been stolen. What else could possibly be going on to make Barry's life more complicated? Maybe an ex-girlfriend who still has feelings for him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you're getting 2 chapters at once again (Chapters 13 & 14) because I just can't stand to leave a particular storyline unfinished, even if the word count is huge again!
> 
>  
> 
> So this is basically a rewrite of the Season 2 Episode "Potential Energy". Hope you all stick with me through the changes to the story to involve Len and the Rogues - and also a bit more of Patty.

                Thursday morning found Barry waited patiently at the arrivals gate with Joe, ready to help Iris and Eddie with their bags and back to their apartment. The trip to the airport had been quiet but uncomfortable. Joe had asked about Barry’s second weekend disappearance several times now, but Barry had just kept replying it wasn’t something he was ready to talk about and although Joe had let it go for the time being, he was sure his foster father was just waiting for the right moment to bring it up again.

The steady stream of tired looking, long haul passengers filed out through the gates after having made their way through customs and it was another ten minutes before Iris and Eddie appeared, dragging their luggage. Their faces lit up when they saw Barry and Joe waiting for them, and there were the usual round of hugs and greetings. Barry watched them both as he gathered up Iris’ carry-on backpack. They both looked tired as expected but had there was also a radiant glow about them that the thirty-seven hours of flying hadn’t dulled. The way Eddie wrapped his now free arm around Iris’ waist and the way she leaned in against him, was a clear sign the honeymoon had gone well.

They saved the bulk of the conversation until they were out of the busy, noisy terminal and in the car, leaving the carpark.

“So, how was it?” Barry asked, turned half around in the front seat so he could see the couple holding hands in the back.

“Oh my god, Italy was the most amazing place,” Iris told him, with a wide happy smile. “The building’s, the history. I loved Venice!”

“Paris is so the city of love,” Eddie told them, with a warm smile for his bride, that spoke volumes about what they’d done there. “Just walking down the street makes you feel like everything is right with the world.” He pulled Iris hand towards him and kissed the back of it.

The glow in her eyes was as warm and loving as Barry had ever seen it, as she stared back at her new husband. Strangely, there was no twist in his gut as there had been in the past when he saw them like this. He only felt happiness for them. He found himself smiling as he continued to listen to their further stories as Joe manuveured the car out onto the highway to take them back to town.

As they pulled up in front of their apartment building, Iris let out a sigh of relief. “As much as it was great to be away, it’s going to be good to be home again.”

“Definitely,” Eddie agreed. “I really am over living out of a suitcase.”

“Well,” Joe told them, pulling the suitcases from the trunk. “Wally and I cleaned the place just yesterday and I’ve stocked the fridge with fresh food. Thought you’d probably be over eating out.”

“Hopefully there’s plenty of salad stuff,” Iris told them, putting a hand to her stomach. “The food was magnificent, but I ate so much, three pairs of my jeans barely fit any longer. As of tomorrow, I’m officially on a diet.”

“Me too,” Eddie added with a grin, lugging a suitcase to the elevator. “Between the pizza and the cheese and wine, we really over did it.”

“Barry, you have to go one day, if for nothing more than the food, which I know you’ll adore,” Iris told him, with a knowing smile.

“Hopefully one day I’ll get the chance,” he replied with a grin, and he couldn’t help but think what it would be like to take Len to Paris or Venice and wondered if carrying Len across the ocean at high speed for that long would be too much for the thief.

Both Eddie and Iris let out more sighs of relief when they entered the apartment. Barry and Joe deposited their luggage in the bedroom.

“So,” Joe said then. “You have to be tired, so we’ll get out of your hair, but we’ll see you on Sunday for a family dinner? Wally’s gonna be there, so it’ll be all of us together for the first time.”

Eddie smiled. “Absolutely! Wouldn’t miss it.”

“And you’ll get your gifts and have hours of not so much fun listening to us wax lyrical about our travels and sit through all the photos!” Iris beamed at them.

“I can’t wait,” Barry told her, giving them both another hug. “I’m glad you had such a great time and got home safe. See you Sunday.”

When they were back on the street Joe turned to him. “You want a lift into work?”

“Ah, no, I’m on afternoons until end of the week and Cisco called this morning, said he had something important he wanted to talk about.”

“About what?”

“Dunno,” Barry replied. “He said something about slowing Zoom down but didn’t give me details.”

Joe looked concerned at the mention of the black-clad speedster but nodded. “Okay, let me know.”

“Will do,” Barry said. He farewelled his foster father and then went to find a convenient alley where he could speed off from.

 

When Barry arrived at the Cortex a short time later, the rest of the team was already there, Jay seated at the central workstation, close by Caitlin. Ever since their kiss under the mistletoe at Christmas things seemed to have been moving steadily for the two of them and Jay was looking and sounding more and more comfortable at STAR Labs and around the team in general.

“Excellent, you’re here,” Cisco enthused, grabbing up a remote for the large wall monitors. He paused a moment, looking at the ground, letting an expectant silence fall over the room.

He looked up with a dramatically serious expression, addressing them all as if this was the most important thing in the world. Barry wondered what on earth it could be. “As some of you may well know, I've been deeply embroiled in a secret, one-sided battle with an invisible enemy. “

Caitlin favoured the young engineer with an exasperated grimace. “No, not the Turtle again!”

Barry turned to look at her fully. “What? What is the - Or who is the Turtle?”

Caitlin grinned in amusement. “It's Cisco's white whale.”

“Half whale, half turtle,” Jay put in, not seeming to get the reference and Barry wondered for a moment if they had Moby Dick on Earth-Two, or if the ex-hero was trying to make a joke now he was getting more comfortable with the group.

“No,” Cisco cried in disgust. “Do you see what you're doing, Caitlin? Everybody's confused now.”

Caitlin held up her hands in surrender, as if to say she wouldn’t interrupt again.

“Get to it,” Harry demanded, his voice calm in that way that they’d all already learned was a brief moment from loosing his patience.

Cisco did as he was told, dropping the dramatic tone and becoming far more practical. “I stumbled upon a few of these cases when we were looking for the Reverse Flash,” he said, pointing with the remote so that a number of police and news reports started overlapping on the screen. “Robberies that were seemingly committed at high speed. People holding their beloved items one second. Those items were gone the next. Tell me what you see.”

A high definition piece of black and white security footage appeared on the screen. They watched as a large, overweight man in a dark hooded anarack moved through the space of an unnamed gallery, all the people in the room around him completely still.

Caitlin frowned at the image. “So, he can what? Stop time?”

“No, no, no. Look at the time code. It's still running,” Cisco pointed out.

Yeah, okay. So, if he's not stopping time, what is he doing?” Barry asked, intrigued with what he was seeing.

“He's slowing down everything around him. And that is why we call him the Turtle,” Cisco ended again in a dramatic tone, as if he’d never lost it.

“Why have you never mentioned this guy to me before?” Barry asked, confused. It wasn’t like his team to keep things like this from him.

Cisco stratched his ear in mock thoughtfulness. “Oh, I don't know, I think we've just been a little distracted, you know, what with Captain Cold and the Weather Wizard and Gorilla Grodd. Do I need to go on?”

“Okay, so if we can catch him, figure out how he uses his powers -.” Jay started, sounding enthused.

Barry was enthused as well, and he went to the workstation computer to beging pulling up any information he could pull up on the thefts Cisco had accumulated, seeing the young engineer had already collated the information into a readily usable form. God, he loved the way Cisco worked.

“Maybe we can show Zoom what life is like in the slow lane,” Cisco ended, with a wide grin.

“How would you even know where to find him?” Harry put in sounding much more cautious.

“Well, the robberies in the videos all correspond with police reports that were dismissed as lost or missing items instead of thefts,” Barry said, reading through Cisco’s file.

“The suspect's M.O. being?” Jay asked.

“Items of immense personal value,” Barry replied. He did a quick internet search. Quick as in at superspeed, looking for anything else the Turtle might be interested in. He realised in surprise there was an opportunity for the thief right at this moment. There was a press conference at CCPD, because the Vandervoort diamonds have just been recovered. Barry didn’t hesitate. If it turned out his hunch was wrong there was no harm done, but maybe they could catch this guy before he stole anything else. With a burst of air, he was in the suit and running towards CCPD.

 

Barry raced into the precinct, taking a spot upstairs from the foyer, where the press conference was taking place. From up here he could see and hear everything, but it was less likely anyone would look up and see the bright red suit, as all attention was on Captain Singh and the representatives of the Vandervoort family.

"The perpetrators who committed this heartless crime have been apprehended and are now in our custody. And we're happy to report that the famed Vandervoort diamonds have been returned to their rightful owner,” Singh was saying.

Barry surveyed the room, looking for anyone who didn’t look like a member of the press. One photographer stepped close to the table where the man was talking, too close for Barry’s comfort.

“The real gem is the return of my great-grandfather's ring. Getting that returned to the family is what's most priceless to me,” the man was saying.

“Gotcha,” Barry muttered, spying the fat man in the dark green anarack on the far side of the room.

He watched the man walk towards the table and he burst down the stairs intent on snatching him up and carrying him away to STAR Labs. As he reached the bottom of the stairs though, it felt like the whole world froze. He was held in place by some invisble force, bent forward in motion, only one foot on the ground, now as immobile as everyone else in the room. He watched, astonished and alarmed as the Turtle just continued to walk towards the table where the diamnonds and the ring were bring held out for show. The Turtle reached out and took the ring, ignoring the wealth of diamonds before him and kept walking, daring to give Barry a quick grin and an amused wink as he just brushed past him. A few moments later the invisible field seemed to completely disappear, and Barry was again barrelling forward through the mass of reporters and police. He only just managed to pull himself to a halt before hitting the opposite wall.

Everyone was looking around in confusion, seeming to know that something weird had happened but not knowing what. “The ring is gone,” Singh exclaimed. “What happened to it?” It didn’t take his cop mind to work out something untoward must have happened. “Lock this place down. No one leaves this room. Sweep the precinct!”

Barry flashed away before anyone could see him, fearing they might blame the Flash for the theft.  


Caitlin was looking over the results of her tests on her tablet and gave a satisfied nod. “Well, the good news is whatever the Turtle did, it only affected you temporarily.”

Barry gratefully climbed off the bed, finishing buttoning up his shirt. He knew that the tests and examinations were always in his best interest, but there were times when he really did feel like a lab experiment when Caitlin demanded on being so thorough. He felt fine and made his way back out into the Cortex where Harry and Cisco were working.

“Yo. What was it like being in Turtle Time?” Cisco asked.

“Yeah, no, it was weird,” Barry told him, remembering the horrible sensation of having his momentum completely stilled. “It was like waves of inertness. Like all the energy was suddenly sucked out of my body, and then it would return.”

“That's because that's exactly what was happening” Harry told him, scribbling notes onto an old-fashioned paper pad. “He has the ability to transfer all the surrounding kinetic energy into himself.”

“Leaving everyone else in a temporary state of potential energy,” Jay put in, letting his inner scientist show.

“So why could I still move?” Barry asked, confused that he’d still been able to move his head and eyes when the Turtle had immobilised him.

“Your speed allows you to change positions faster than anyone else,” Harry replied shortly.

“So, you can convert your stored potential energy back to kinetic energy,” Jay added helpfully.

Barry nodded in understanding.

“Excuse me, where are you going?” Cisco demanded of Harry, as the man went to the far door into another lab space.

“Trying to figure out how to use this against Zoom. You remember Zoom?” Harry replied, sounding angry that Cisco seemed distracted from the real issue.

“ _’Cisco, please join me. We'll use your idea and take it to new scientific heights and save the world.’_ Yes, I'd love to!” Cisco grumped sarcastically, making Barry and Jay both grin as the engineer followed Harry out of the Cortex.

“Okay,” Caitlin said, bent over the workstation. “Facial recognition software found us a match from the press conference footage. The Turtle's name is Russell Glosson. He was a small-time thief who stopped thieving after the particle accelerator explosion.”

“All right, I'm gonna head to work catch Joe up. Let me know if you find anything else.”

Jay and Caitln both nodded as he left.

Cisco caught up with him in the corridor before he reached the elevators. “What is it?” he asked. “You leave something out?”

“Nah, dude, this is about something else,” Cisco told him. “Did Snart say anything to you when he returned the dampening cuffs?”

Barry frowned. They’d said a lot to each other that night, although he didn’t think there was anything else he needed to tell Cisco. “No, why?”

“It’s just that I decided to give them all some maintainence before I gave them back to CCPD,” he said. “And even though they were all still working it looked like one of them had been tampered with.”

“Tampered with?”

“Yeah,” Cisco said. “It looked like someone had taken one of the pairs apart and put them back together again.”

“You’re sure?”

“Dude, I know my own work, okay. I’d never leave them with loose connections or screws like that. Someone, not me, has been messing with them.”

Barry thought about that. There were more than a few people who’d had their hands on the cuffs during their theft from CCPD. Any of them could have messed around with them, but why?

“I think maybe Snart had a look.”

“Why would Snart be interested?” Barry demanded. “And what would he even get out of pulling them apart?”

“The guy’s smart, man,” Cisco reminded him. “Like crazy smart for all he tries to hide it. He may not have a formal education but if he can pull apart something as complicated as the Cold Gun and put it back together – and sabotage the jail truck, which was not like flicking a few swtiches by the way, then he has more engineering knowledge than he lets on. He could easily make something as simple as the cuffs work if he had a way to download the control software in the chips.”

“So, what, you think he took them apart, so he could steal the design? What would he get out of that?”

“Well if they were being sold on the black market, he wouldn’t have to steal more, he could just make them for sale,” Cisco said. “And he did release the metas at Ferris Air so they could join his Rogues. Maybe he’s looking for a way to control them if he ever needs to.”

Barry nodded, his frowned deepening. Cisco was making sense, and it wasn’t necessarily something Len would have told Barry. So far, they hadn’t spoken about Len’s business since he’d killed Lewis. With growing doubt and frustration, he found himself nodding but didn’t want to believe it just yet. “It’s possible I guess,” he conceded. “But he wasn’t the only one to handle them in all that time. And there is that new weapons dealer, that ‘Lord’ guy. It would have been in his interest to do the same thing.”

“Just something to keep in mind,” Cisco told him. “I don’t know that we want just anyone having access to the cuffs. We’ve already seen what can happen to you if the wrong people get hold of them.”

Barry nodded. “I’ll see if I can find a way to contact Snart. See what he has to say for himself.”

“I’ll keep the satellite cued to look for the Cold Gun, we might get a hit that way.”

“Cool, see you tonight when I come back for patrol.”

“Later, dude.”

Barry leaned back against the wall of the elevator, thinking about what Cisco had said. Yeah, Len could make money off the cuffs within the criminal community. He probably did have the skills to build more of them if needed. But would he really want too? Dealing wasn’t Len’s MO. He was a thief. And he’d gone out of his way to find them and return them to CCPD. Once Barry had been rescued did it really matter to Len where the other cuffs were, and who had access to them? It was something to ask him when they got together next.

 

 

Barry sat at Joe’s desk in the bullpen, having just pulled up Glosson’s criminal file on his computer. His foster father was looking through his past crimes and convictions. Patty was leaning over the desk on Barry’s other side, reading intently. Her perfume was soft and delicate, catching in Barry’s nose and making him very aware of her by his side. He was still uncomfortable around Joe’s partner, even though they seemed to have parted on civil terms.

“The Turtle,” Joe muttered, pointing at Glosson’s mugshot. “Cisco's been looking for this guy forever. Singh just put an APB out on him.”

Barry looked at him in confusion. “Um, how did everybody know about Glosson before I did?”

Joe grinned. “Cisco's got a whole list of unidentified metas. The boys around here are calling him Cisco de la Mancha.”

Barry couldn’t help but laugh at the name. He wondered if Cisco would find it as fitting as one he’d chosen himself.

“Yeah,” Patty interjected. “We’re the only ones who take it seriously, though. As a scientific advisor he’s good at taking the little bits of data and combining them into useful information.”

“Yeah, well, he can write an algorithim to track down most things,” Barry said.

Patty grinned even while still looking at the screen. “At Christmas drinks at Joe’s house, he bombarded me with a whole heap of tech speak, that I had little understanding of, but he sounded so passionate about it I couldn’t help but keep smiling. Science is definitely his love.”

“Yeah, well we’re all science geeks together,” Barry said with a smile.

“Joe!” the call was from Singh, who was gesturing from his office.

“Back in a minute,” Joe told them, heading over to his boss.

“You know, you never told me how you know the guys from STAR Labs,” Patty said then.

“Oh, oh, um,” Barry started, wondering how to say it but then decided that at least partial truth was probably best. He’d lied to her enough. “I was treated at STAR Labs while I was in my coma. Caitlin and Cisco were the only two employees left there, so they pretty much looked after me during that time. It’s hard not to be friends with the people who were kind enough to give me sponge baths while I was out to it.”

“Oh, yeah, right, that makes sense,” she said, going back to the screen, looking a little awkward, and Barry wondered if he’d been a little too honest. “I guess there’s still a lot I don’t know about you. I mean, we didn’t have the time together to really get to know those sorts of things.”

She still sounded bitter about it and Barry couldn’t blame her. He winced and looked over at her, wondering what it was he could possibly say that would make things better between them. Again, maybe the partial truth was the way to go.

“Look Patty, I know I pulled away really quickly -,” he started.

“No, I get it Barry, okay,” she replied, standing straight and moving back to her own desk. “I told you all about my dad and Mardon and it was more than you could handle. I get it.”

Barry came around from Joe’s side resting on the edge of her desk beside her. “You think that’s why I stopped dating you? Patty that’s not -. What you went through with your dad and then facing his killer. That proved you to be really strong and brave. That wasn’t what made me -.” It had only made him realise how much they had in common and that only made him care about her more. But that also made him realise the love and strength the woman carried, and that she deserved someone who wasn’t going to lie to her and put her in more danger than she found herself in already.

“Then what was it?” she demanded, suddenly sounding as hurt as she had when he’d broken up with her. “Because I can’t see anything else I did that -.”

“It wasn’t you, Patty,” he told her, taking a quick glance around them to make sure no one else was close enough to hear. “Look, you know when my mom was killed, I went to live with Joe.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, Iris and I had been best friends already. But as the years went on living with her. I began to feel more than friendship for her.”

Patty’s brow furrowed. “Alright,” she murmured, looking uncertain where he was going with this.

“After I came out of the coma and realised how close I’d come to dying, I wanted to tell her how I felt. But she was already with Eddie. And I made the mistake of telling her anyway. She told me she didn’t feel the same way and I could see how happy she was with Eddie, so I tried to move on.”

“With me,” Patty said.

He nodded, wringing his hands before noticing and stopping. “But the closer it got to the wedding, the more I knew those feelings were still there for her, no matter how hard I’d tried to get over them. You and I were having such a great time together, but I could see you wanted to get closer. And I knew I wasn’t in a place where I could give you all the love you should have because I was still pining after someone else. It wasn’t fair to you, Patty. You deserve someone who’s going to be there for you a hundred percent.”

“And now that she is married?” Patty asked. Was there something hopeful in her tone? Did she want to get back together with him?

“Now, I don’t know,” Barry replied. It was the truth. Since the wedding his mind had been so full of Len he hadn’t thought much about Iris at all. Was he over it or was he just distracted from it? “I know that having been apart from her for a month has helped a lot, and I don’t think I feel as deeply about her anymore. But I won’t be able to tell until I spend more time with her. She’s still my best friend and the closest thing to a sister I’m ever going to have. I don’t want to lose those aspects of our relationship. I guess I’m just not in a good place to be with anyone right now.”

“Alright, well I guess that’s acceptable as break-up excuses go,” she said, and grinned as if trying to make _him_ feel better.

He was again struck that she really was an amazing person. “We were having lots of fun Patty and I’d like to keep having fun. If you’d be open to still being friends?”

She smiled. “Yeah, yeah okay, I think I could do that.”

Barry grinned. “Great.”

Joe was coming back to his desk then, his face dark and troubled.

“What is it?” Patty asked.

“Singh just got a call from prison transport,” he said. “That guy, the last of the Munroes. He’s been recovering at CCH, remember?”

“Yeah, of course,” Barry said.

“Well, he was being transferred to the meta wing at Iron Heights and he’s broken out of the transport van. Two guards are down and the guy’s escaped custody.”

“Did he have help?” Patty asked, already standing and pulling on her jacket.

“Not by the look of it,” Joe said. “But there’s still a chance, so Singh wants Barry to go over the van, see what he can find.”

“I’ll grab my kit,” Barry told them, racing upstairs to his lab.

The car ride to the scene was slow, with the lunchtime rush, and Joe was tapping nervously on the steering wheel as he waited at a set of traffic lights.

“You still coming to dinner on Sunday?” Joe asked, over his shoulder to Barry in the back seat.

“Definitely,” Barry replied. “I am looking forward to an evening of honeymoon photos and romantic tales.”

“You think Wally is going to be okay with it?” Joe asked, wringing his hands. “I mean, we’ve only had a couple of quiet conversations. He’s never been exposed to the whole family at once before. And I mean, with Eddie there -.”

“Joe, he seems like a great kid,” Barry told him. “I’m sure he’s able to handle a room full of people. Especially ones who want to think the best of him from the beginning. He seemed to handle the wedding full of strangers perfectly well. It’ll be fine.”

Joe grunted noncommittedly and put the car in motion as the light turned green.

The van provided Barry no clues. There were fingerprints, which he was sure were going to belong to the prison staff and the Munroe, but he found no evidence other than the fact the creature had simply torn its way out of its restraints and clawed at the guards as it made its escape. They had some nasty gashes that were going to need large numbers of stitches but nothing truly life-threatening. There was certainly a lot of blood, which looked worse than it was, and Barry dutifully took photos of the whole scene. The trail of blood that Barry followed away from the van and down the street soon petered out and they were at a loss as to what to do to next.

Joe took him aside while Patty was taking statements from the guards.

“You have any idea where this thing will go now?” Joe asked.

“No,” Barry admitted, quietly. “I’ll do a sweep tonight when I’m on patrol and see if Harry has any other information but for now there’s nothing else I can give you.”

Joe nodded but looked disappointed and more than a little sick at the sight of the guards’ injuries. “Okay, we know this thing will be looking for blood, so the sooner we get it the better.”

“I know, Joe,” he said. “I’ll get Cisco on re-tasking the satellite, see if we can pick anything up.”

Joe nodded, calling the conversation to an end as Patty returned over to them. There wasn't much to do after that and Barry found himself back at the station soon after, running fingerprints he knew wouldn’t yield anything and thinking hard about whether he should confront Len about the dampening cuffs or not.

 

Sunday night dinner did not go as well as everyone thought it would.

Iris started picking up the dirty plates left over from the meal, with a resigned sigh. “Okay, I think we can call it. Wally is not coming.”

They’d given up waiting for the young man after an hour, hoping he’d turn up halfway through the meal, but there was no sign of him.

“I'm sorry, Joe,” Eddie said, rising and beginning to help clear the table. “I know how much this meant to you, having everyone together for the first time.”

Joe stood up, looking tired and disappointed. “He's a kid, right? I get it.”

“He could have at least called,” Iris said, sounding irritated for her father.

“Well, there could be a number of reasons why he didn't. Thank you all for being here. I love you.” Joe said, wrapping one arms around Iris shoulder’s and giving her a squeeze. “We will hear all about your adventures another night.”

“Love you too dad,” she told him, kissing his cheek. “Why don’t you go up to bed. We got the clean up.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you look beat,” Iris told him. “Go – rest.”

“Okay,” Joe conceded. “See you in the morning, Bear.”

“Yeah,” Barry replied with a brief smile before turning back to his phone. He’d been playing with it on and off all night, not really looking at anything but using it as a way to cover his distraction. He and Len had another great weekend together, but Barry had been stupid enough to ruin it right at the end. He’d finally gathered up the courage to ask Len about the cuffs. When Len had asked why, and Barry admitted that they’d been tampered with Len had offered the possibility of the weapons dealer probably being to blame, which Barry had hurriedly agreed with. But it was clear from their last hour together that Len was trying very hard not to show his irritation at Barry trying to disguise his accusation. Ever since he’d got home he could think about nothing else except how to regain the man’s trust now he’d clearly lost it.

“Well, West family 2.0 is not really off to a great start,” Iris commented, coming back from the kitchen. “You've been quiet all evening,” she said to Barry as he rose from the now cleared table and went to the sofa. “The Turtle?”

Barry stared in surprise. She was still officially on honeymoon! “How do you know about him?”

She and Eddie laughed. Yeah, of course Eddie knew being on the Taskforce. Of course, he was going to share that with the reporter who liked to specialise in metahuman stories.

“No, um no, I've just had a lot on my mind,” Barry continued, still glancing down at his phone every now and then.

“Does this have something to do with your new lady love?” Eddie asked, with a smile.

“What?” Barry exclaimed, sitting up straight.

Iris gave Eddie an exasperated look but smiled at Barry with an apologetic shrug. “Dad may have mentioned that you’ve been disappearing on the weekends.”

Barry sighed and shook his head. “It’s not…not like that…I just…It’s something I don’t want to talk about.”

“Dad may have mentioned that too,” Iris said, coming to sit beside him on the sofa. “Is there a reason it’s some big secret?”

Barry moved away from her slightly with growing anger. This was Joe’s doing. He wasn’t getting the information he wanted out of Barry, so he’d gone behind his back and asked Iris to get it. He stood up and shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Yes, it’s called having my own life and wanting some damn privacy!” He ran hands over his face. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologised for the outburst. They didn’t deserve that. “It’s just my business and I want to keep it that way, that’s all.” He stepped away from the sofa. “Look, I gotta go. Still looking for Turtles and Munroes. I’ll see you later.” He barely heard their surprised farewells, he was already nearly to the door and was out of it without a look back.

He had to find a way to get Joe to back off. There was no way he was going to admit that he was seeing Len, but he refused to lie about it either. They were all just going to have to accept that this was something they didn’t get to know about. He knew it would hurt them, he’d be hurt if they suddenly started keeping such important parts of their lives from him. But he honestly couldn’t see any conversation that started with “I’m sleeping with Leonard Snart” ever going well. So, he ran, and he kept running, burning off dinner as he tried in vain to think of a way to get them all off his back about this. Only when his stomach growled, and he had to stop in at a Big Belly Burger for a calorie intake, did he realise it was nearly one in the morning. In frustration he gave up on a solution and staggered back home to bed, hoping Joe would leave it alone now he’d had an angry outburst in front of the others.

 

It was Tuesday night. Thankfully Barry was back on morning shift this fortnight, so was in the Cortex, getting ready to go out on patrol. He was still out of sorts about the family dinner being ruined by Wally’s non-appearance and more so about Joe going behind his back to talk to Iris and Eddie about his weekend outings. There was keeping secrets and then there was just plain wanting some privacy and really expecting that from his family!

“Dude, you okay?” Cisco asked, sucking at his soda. He’d been looking for any more evidence of the Turtle all day, although there seemed to be none and no likely targets the man would be interested in.

“Um, yeah,” Barry said absently, not wanting to breach the topic with Cisco, as that would just be another person wanting in on his private life.  He pulled the cowl up over his face, ready to take off, just as the trio entered through the open doors of the Cortex.

Cisco swivelled in his chair when he saw Barry’s eyes widen at the door behind him.  The soda dropped from his hands, spilling on the floor at his feet.

Len, Mick and Lisa were dressed for battle, black leather of motorcycle suits for the Snarts and similar for the arsonist, who had ditched his usual firefighter’s pants for a pair of jeans and a dark leather jacket.  All three had guns drawn. Not the weapons Cisco had made them but regular pistols.

“Dudes!” he breathed, raising his hands slowly.

“Hey Cisco,” Lisa greeting him with a bright smile, levelling her weapon at his head.

“Le – Snart,” Barry started, his hands out trying to keep the peace. “What are you doing?”

“I’m missing a few items, Flash,” Len replied, his signature drawl well in place, his face set in what Barry had come to call his ‘Captain Cold’ persona. “I believe you have them.”

“Okay,” he took a step forward, and Len pointed the gun directly at his chest. “Let’s just calm down.”

“Calm happens when you hand over our Guns without any fuss,” Len’s voice was fast and harsh, but Barry could see something in his eyes…betrayal?

“Dude, we don’t have the Cold Gun,” Cisco told him, looking confused, ducking his head as Lisa stepped up to him, the pistol pressed to his temple. She grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to sit up.

“He’s right, Snart.  We don’t have any of your Guns,” Barry said.

“Seems a little difficult to believe when they were specifically taken by someone who I’m guessing is part of your team,” Len was staring at him unwavering.

At that moment Caitlin and Jay walked in from the medical lab.  Caitlin let out a gasp of shock at the sight, shrinking back as Mick aimed his gun in their direction.

“Cool it, Doc,” Mick growled.

Jay took in the scene in an instant, noting Caitlin’s reaction, drawing her behind him.

“Oo, got yourself a pretty hero, Snow,” Mick commented with a sly grin.

Caitlin’s expression turned hateful and she stepped around Jay, taking two large steps in the criminal’s direction, staring Mick down. “Barry, why aren’t they in the pipeline already?”

“Because there’s a misunderstanding,” Barry told her. “They think we have their Guns.”

She huffed, her eyes still on Mick, who was suddenly returning the gaze with something close to respect.

“Snart, just tell me what happened, and we’ll work this out,” Barry told him.  “Please. I swear we didn’t take your Guns.”

Len sighed but didn’t lower his weapon.  “We were casing a new target -.”

“What target?”

“Irrelevant,” Len snapped, causing Barry to wince. Yeah, he shouldn’t have asked that. “Then all of a sudden we were frozen in place and there was some short fat guy running between us at Flash speed.  He seemed more than happy to take our weapons before disappearing.”

Cisco chuckled.  “They got Turtled! Oh man, that is so cool!  Captain Cold versus Turtle.”

“Sis, if he keeps talking shoot him,” Len told her.

Lisa pouted.  “Please Cisco, I’d hate to do it.”

Cisco huffed in disgust.  “Yeah, I bet you would.”

“What the hell’s a Turtle?”  Mick demanded, still watching Caitlin and Jay.

“He’s a meta we’re tracking,” Barry told them, hoping the desperate look in his eyes was enough to convince Len he was telling the truth.  “And he’s not superfast.  It’s the opposite.  He can change the energy around him to literally slow everyone else down.”  He offered his angry lover a lame smile. “He’s actually a thief.  Likes to steal things that are of personal importance to his victims.” His expression became serious again.  “I swear he is not part of our team. We’re trying to put him away.”

Len didn’t move. “Please, Snart. I’m telling you the truth,” Barry practically begged. “Please.”

Len sighed again and shook his head, lowering his gun, though his expression didn’t change.  “Better be Flash, or things could get messy.”

“Yeah, real messy,” Barry agreed, softly.

 

Barry hit the section of the wall and the concrete stripped back to reveal the Time Vault.  He made Len enter first, the thief peeking his head through before he took a step inside.

“Where’s this?” he demanded, looking around at the suddenly different walls and the yellow suit in the glass case.

“This is where Reverse Flash plotted his evil schemes and watched my entire life to make sure I became The Flash,” Barry told him shortly.  “It’s also one of the few rooms in the building without cameras or listening devices.”

Len frowned briefly but gave a nod, his eyes on the suit.

Barry pulled the cowl down.  “What the hell are you doing here, Len?”

“Told you, want my Gun back.”

“Bullshit,” Barry snapped.  “You know I’d never take your Gun.”

“Wouldn’t you?”  Len asked, turning to him then, his expression intense.  “Not even to keep me safe?”

Barry baulked.  “What? You – you think I’d take your Cold Gun to try to keep you out of harm’s way?”

“It’d be a pretty good way of slowing down my criminal activities. Don’t you think?” He still had a doubtful expression, his Cold drawl drawing out the words.

Barry shook his head at the man, unable to find words for a long moment. “Len, I’m not trying to stop you being who you are.  For fuck’s sake I’m trying to keep you away from _my_ crazy life, not trying to stop you living your _own_.” He turned away.  He couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the doubt in Len’s eyes anymore, like he didn’t trust Barry. “I told you I saw good in you, but I never _asked_ you to change. If you did, you wouldn’t be the same man I…care about.”

There was silence for a long minute. He found himself looking at the floor, hands clenching and unclenching not knowing what else to do. God, he’d just wanted things with Len to be simple, why did the man have to complicate it?

Len stepped round in front of him, taking his face in his hands.  The blue eyes were clouded, troubled with doubt and pain.  All Barry could do was stare at him, not knowing what else to say or do to prove the truth of his words.  His anguish must have shown on his face because Len’s expression settled into something like regret.  He leaned in and kissed Barry gently, the speedster responding in kind. He quickly wrapped his arms around the thief’s waist, worried if he didn’t Len’d run away again.

Len wound his arms around Barry’s shoulders, drawing him close against him, tucking Barry’s head under his chin, Barry relaxed against him feeling the tension leave him.

“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” Len said then.

Some of the tension suddenly returned. “What’s that?”

“I have no idea what I’m doing…when it comes to…whatever this is.” It was said quietly, hesitantly, with obvious difficulty.

Barry relaxed and snuggled tighter against him. “I’ve never been in quite this place either. I’m not any better. Not after our conversation about the dampening cuffs.”

“I didn’t take any designs, Barry,” he said. Barry felt his cheek tighten as he grinned. “If I wanted more cuffs I’d just steal Ramon’s.”

“I know it sounded like an accusation. It wasn’t meant to be,” Barry told him. “I’m just worried about what happens if they get into the wrong hands again. I’m sorry, Len.”

“How fast can you get out of that suit?” Len asked, quietly in his ear.

Barry looked up at him in shock.  “You want to have make-up sex in the Time Vault?”

“Well I’m not leaving this hanging between us until Friday night,” Len told him with a smile. “Besides the others think we’ve gone for takeout while they’re busy looking for this Turtle’s next target, I think we have time.” His hands were already wandering over Barry’s body, squeezing his arse through the red tri-polymer, causing Barry to squeak in surprise.  “The leather looks good, but I really can’t feel much through it. So how fast can you shed it?”

Barry grinned, his body already starting to respond to the wickedness of what Len was proposing. He was out of the suit in an instant, pressing his naked body back against the thief.

“Much better,” Len murmured into his neck, his lips already tracing lines down his flesh.

 

Cisco leaned back in the chair, frustrated by the lack of progress and more than a little distracted by the light scent of Lisa’s perfume as she sat next to him, leaning close as they covered news reports and press releases to see if they could find the Turtle’s next target.  Caitlin was at the next terminal doing the same thing, Jay resting against the bench next to her, facing away from her now.  He’d been hovering ever since the Rogues had arrived.  The criminals had staunchly refused to leave without their weapons and had declared they were going to assist Team Flash until they were returned. Jay was currently shifting his gaze between Rory, who was leaning back in a chair near the door, munching a donut, and Lisa, who had not so subtly been moving closer to Cisco as the night progressed. Cisco was having none of it, pointedly ignoring her advances. He was pissed at her for putting a gun to his head and wasn’t about to let her get away without at least pretending to be sorry.

Giving up for a few minutes Cisco turned his attention to Jay, wondering what it could be making the guy like this.  His expression was a mixture between disgust, curiosity and incredulity. Yeah, he was worried about Caitlin being around the criminals but there seemed more to it than that. God, he wished Barry and Snart would get back soon.  They’d gone out for take away dinner, the thief demanding they take the slow way as he wanted to keep an eye on The Flash. He didn’t want any pesky police being called while he was out of his sight. Jay crossed his arms over his chest, his head cocked to one side as he continued to stare.

“What ya looking at Handsome? Think I’m gonna try and steal your girlfriend?”  Mick growled suddenly, not looking up. Cisco frowned, he hadn’t thought Rory was even aware of his surroundings, although the guy wouldn’t have survived this long as a criminal without being aware, he clearly hid it better than most. Interesting.

Caitlin let out a disgusted huff without turning around.

“I’m just thinking about the similarities between our two worlds,” Jay replied, his tone thoughtful. “And the differences.”

“Two worlds?” Lisa asked, looking up at him then.

“Uh, yeah, Jay’s from an alternate Earth,” Cisco told her.

She stared back in confusion.

 “Uh, it’s like a different dimension.  Everything is similar, but slightly different.  Like for instance, on Earth-Two Jay is – was – The Flash.”

Lisa stared at the man, looking him up and down with a new appreciation, before returning to the screen.

Cisco had an idea suddenly.  “Dude, do you know who their doppelgangers are?”

“Our what?”  Rory demanded.

“Everything’s similar, even the people,” Cisco told him. “We’d all be there somewhere, just probably a bit different.  Dude, who are they?”

Lisa looked interested, turning her attention from the screen, leaning back in her chair.

Jay looked amused and leaned back further, crossing his long legs and uncrossing his arms. “Actually, I’ve met all three of these criminals as very different people.”

“How are we different?” Snart drawled from the doorway and Cisco jumped. 

The thief was leaning against the doorframe. Barry was standing beside him, the cowl down.  They were both holding bags containing Chinese containers. The thief was looking at Jay with interest.

Cisco cleared a space on the desk beside him, taking the food and starting to lay it all out.

“Well, Michael Rory is the Central City Fire Chief,” Jay said.

Caitlin let out a derisive snort, still looking at her computer but Cisco could tell she wasn’t reading anything.

“He’s a brave man,” Jay went on.  “He’s still very hands-on for someone who should be behind a desk these days.  He’s best friends with the mayor.”

“I was a firefighter for a while,” Rory told them then.  “It didn’t take.”

“No, ‘cause it’s more fun lighting them than putting them out,” Caitlin muttered angrily.

“You know me so well, Snow,” Rory replied with a grin.

She swivelled in her chair, her face dark with dislike.

“Chief Rory even saved my life once,” Jay went on.  “I was fighting Zoom in a chemical refinery and a fire broke out. The brigade was called.  Rory lead the team, saved the lives of six civilian workers, almost at the cost of his own life, he just kept going back in to get one more.

“Finally Zoom had me on the ropes and a metal girder fell on me, trapping me. Zoom thought I was dead so he retreated.  Rory found me and got me out.  It didn’t go well from him.  He suffered chemical burns to forty percent of his body.”

“Sounds like a hero idiot,” Rory commented, coming to take a box of food.

Caitlin stood up then, taking a step towards Rory, right in his face. “As opposed to an idiot who’d suffer fifty percent burns for nothing more than a theft?”

Rory nodded. “Yes.” He strolled unconcerned back to his seat.

Caitlin watched him with impotent rage rising, her hands clenched tight, face reddening.

“You two have a history?”  Jay asked, looking between the two, curious.

“I tied her to a chair, threatened to burn her and put a tripwire bomb under her,” Rory replied matter-of-factly.  “It was a bad first date.”

“It was not a date!” Caitlin raged then, stalking a few steps towards him before stopping. “You kidnapped me!”

Rory just grinned and started eating his food without looking at her.

Caitlin continued to stare at him for a long moment her hands still clenched her eyes blazing before she finally let out a frustrated huff and went to get her food. Cisco was sure she was holding in the urge to stamp her foot.

“What about me?” Lisa asked.  She already had her food open, chopsticks poking inside.

“Oh, I’ve met you briefly a few times at official functions and award ceremonies,” Jay told her with a smile.

“Really?  What do I do, what am I like?”  she asked, clearly interested.

“Well, officially you’re the mayor’s personal assistant, but in reality, he relies on you for a lot more. You’re one of his closest advisors.”

“Really,” she said.  “And who is this intelligent mayor with such good judgement?”

Jay pointed to Snart with his chin.  “Leonard Snart has been re-elected three times now.”

Len’s arms uncrossed and he looked shocked for a moment before chuckling in amusement.  “Yours is a truly messed up world.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Barry said then, grinning widely in a way Cisco found too friendly, even for Flash and Cold.  “City at your feet, sister at your right hand, best friend backing you up.  Doesn’t sound so different.”

Len looked at him in surprise and then chuckled again, shaking his head before coming to get food.

Cisco let out a soft laugh at the idea of these three being powerful and well-respected individuals on another Earth. He was reaching for his food when his computer dinged an alert.

He turned to the press release that had just popped up.  “Hey, guys,” he said, his excitement rising as he kept reading. “I think we found the next target for our thirty-something, meta-human, not-a-Ninja-Turtle.”

Lisa gave him a questioning gaze. “How long did it take you to come up with that one?” She sounded amused, a slight smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“It just came out of my mouth; did you see that?” Cisco exclaimed, grinning at his own creativity.

“That was amazing,” Snart drawled, sounding far less impressed. “What did you find?”

“Central City Museum is hosting a special black-tie event tomorrow night showcasing ‘The Crystal Ball’.” Cisco shrugged as he continued to read. “It's a famous painting, apparently, recently recovered from Markovia. The painting is on loan to the museum from the Silverberg family. Jacob Silverberg himself said, ‘ _The painting's safe return means more to us than all the money in the world’_. It's like they're _begging_ Turtle to steal it.”

“Okay, yes,” Barry said, bending over the screen to continue reading the document. “This is a plan. So, the Turtle will make his move, and we can be there waiting to take him down.”

“How do you look in a tux?” Caitlin asked Jay, her smile making it clear she wanted him to be there with them at the museum.

“Come on,” Cisco scoffed waving at Jay in disgust. “He's 6'2", he's square-jawed, and he's jacked. I think he’d look fine.”

“I'm 6'4",” Jay amended with a slight smile.

Cisco rolled his eyes.

 

 

Barry adjusted the bow tie, straightening his jacket for the umpteenth time. The art gallery where the painting ‘The Crystal Ball’ was being displayed wasn’t overly crowded but there were still enough men looking better in black tie than him. For some reason he wanted to look good tonight. Probably because Len was here. 

The thief was dressed in the same midnight-blue suit he’d worn at Iris’ wedding.  The shirt and vest were the same colour as the jacket and pants and he’d added a silk bow-tie of the same colour. It was a dramatic effect and the colour set off Len’s eyes, the tailored pants accentuating his long legs, the jacket pulling in just enough to outline his lean torso with its broad shoulders. When he’d arrived at the Cortex earlier that evening it had been all Barry could do to not speed him down to the Time Vault and have him there and then.

“Cisco, are you and Harry in position?” Barry asked into the commlink in his ear. Cisco, Harry, Lisa and Mick were outside, monitoring the situation from the van. Back-up if needed.

“I'm in the security feed,” Cisco responded. “I've got the facial recognition software running, so we'll be able to spot Turtle before he makes his move.”

Barry nodded to himself and readjusted the jacket again. His phone dinged.

_Settle Barry_

He frowned, Len was on the other side of the room, sipping champagne and examining a sculpture, though Barry glimpsed the phone in his hand.

_I look like a dork in this rental tux_

_You look fine_

_Says the hot villain in the bespoke suit_

_I look hot?_

_Seriously? Having trouble not pulling you into a dark corner and showing you how fucking sexy you look right now!_

_Scarlet, please, you’ll make me blush!_

Barry grinned and was about to put the phone in his pocket when he noticed someone by the door he hadn’t been expecting.

_Keep your head down, Patty just walked in_

He pocketed the phone and watched the pretty detective enter the main room.  She was dressed in a low cut, figure hugging full length gown, her blonde hair beautifully styled. She looked incredible, but her appearance was only a secondary shock of seeing her here at all.

Grabbing a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waiter he approached her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, holding out the glass.

Patty looked up at him in shock. “Uh, fancy,” she replied looking confused, gingerly taking the glass.  “I, I mean, I didn’t know anyone from CCPD would be here tonight.”

“Oh, I’m not here officially,” Barry said, taking a sip of his champagne. “I, uh, I’m here with a friend.”

“Oh, wow,” Patty exclaimed in surprise. “So, you are moving on then.”

Barry winced and shook his head.  “No, no it’s not like that,” he told her, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “No, it’s just a friend who likes art and didn’t have anyone else to come with, so they asked me.” He held up the glass.  “You know, free drinks and a night out of the lab.”

She looked a little less distressed then. “Oh, okay.”

“So, what are you doing here?  A date?” he asked, hoping she was moving on. As much as he still liked her, having found Len made things completely different now.

“Ah, no, work actually,” she replied with an uncomfortable nod.

“Really?”  he asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The woman was too smart.

“Yeah, I’ve been looking into more recent thefts and I went through a whole lot of other case files where the items were deemed to be missing or lost and I think I came up with a theory.”

“Really?”

“I think that Glosson is the meta who’s somehow stealing objects that are of personal worth to the victims, not just the monetary worth. Like, the Vandervoort Diamonds were right there in the precinct and all he took was the old ring when he could have taken the whole lot. Since the family who own this painting say that it’s so important to them I thought this could probably be Glosson’s next target.”

“ _Smart girl_ ,” Len’s drawl sounded in his ear through the STAR Labs commlink. “ _Pretty too. I can see why you liked her. Distract her.”_

“Oh, wow,” Barry said, trying to ignore the voice in his ear.  “You’re really working overtime on the meta front.”

“Well, I did join Joe to do just that,” she replied with a smile.

Barry looked around quickly, wondering where he was. “Is Joe with you?”

“Ah, no, he said he had something personal to do tonight,” Patty replied. “Said it was time sensitive. Thought you’d know, basically being his son and all?”

“He did not mention anything,” Barry said, with a frown. “He’ll probably tell me later.”

“I’m sure he will.”

                “Would you like to dance?”  Barry asked. It was the only thing he could think of.

                “Uh, what about your friend?” she asked, looking confused again.

“I think my friend is too busy looking at art,” Barry told her “And well, I’m just here for the champagne.”

She smiled.  “Yeah, okay, that would be nice.”

               

Cisco sat in the passenger seat of the van, his eyes trained on the tablet screen in front of him, watching the facial recognition software scanning through the crowd. He looked up when a gentle long fingered hand rested on his shoulder.

“Cisco are you mad at me?” Lisa asked, from her place in the back, now leaning over his seat.

Cisco gaped, incredulous. “Yeah, Sister Cold, of course I’m mad.”

“What did I do?” she asked, all innocence.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he exclaimed in feigned astonishment. “Maybe it’s because you didn’t kiss me hello when you arrived.”

Harry, who’d been staring out the window in his usual moody darkness, turned sharply back to them, his gaze darting between the two in surprise. _“What?”_

Cisco grimaced and then shrugged. He had no reason to deny it. “What, we’re kinda dating,” he told the older scientist. “It’s a casual thing,” he added as if that would somehow make it alright.

Harry shook his head in despair, massaging his forehead as if to stave off an oncoming headache.

“Oh no, I remember now,” Cisco exclaimed then to Lisa, resuming the tirade he’d been building to before Harry’s interruption. “It’s because you put _a gun to my head!_ ”

“Sweetie, you don’t think that was personal, do you?” she demanded, eyes wide with shock.

“Sure felt personal,” Cisco muttered, turning back to the tablet.

“Our guns were stolen, we thought it was Team Flash,” she said.

“I got a bomb out of your neck last year. We helped your brother get off his father’s murder. I would have thought there was at least a little trust going on here.”

From the corner of his eye he could see Harry’s growing outrage at the mentions of bombs and murder.

“What possible reason could we have for taking them?” Cisco demanded. “None of you have used them for anything illegal since -,” he paused, knowing it was still a delicate subject. “- Lewis.”

“Once we thought it was someone really fast, Lenny was sure there was no one else it could be than Team Flash.”

“And you just believed him, against all the other evidence?”

She pouted, a spark of anger flashing in her eyes. “What would you have done if Barry had convinced you we were working a job and had to be stopped? Would you have believed The Flash against all the other evidence?”

That made him stop. If Barry had come to the Team with suscipions of a crime in progress they would have backed his judgement. He looked up at her, an apology in his eyes. “I guess we both have divided loyalties.”

She smiled then, as if he suddenly understood something important. The hand on his shoulder squeezed and she leaned into his space, looking down at the tablet. “Any sign of the Turtle yet?” she asked, getting back to the job at hand.

Harry let out a disgusted huff, looking very unhappy with the conversation so far. “ _Turtle!_ Why do you insist on giving them ridiculous nicknames?”

“Me?” Cisco demanded. “Who's the genius that came up with _‘Zoom’_?” He thrust his hand forward in emphasis.

Harry paused, a sad smile stretching his mouth as if he knew what Cisco meant but found no humour in it. “Yeah, well I'll tell you,” he started. “About two years ago - this is on Earth-Two, now. The CCPD there got a nine-nine-one call about a hostage situation, but when the SWAT team got there, there were no hostages.” He paused as if for dramatic effect. “It was a trap. Zoom set a trap in order to show the police that they could not stop him. And he killed fourteen officers. Men and women. Slaughtered them. Left one alive to tell what happened. That officer described blue lightning ‘zooming’ all about as his comrades, brothers and sisters in arms, were murdered. That officer considered himself to be a lucky one, spared in order to tell the tale. Until Zoom went to his house that night and killed him too.”

They all looked at him, even Rory in the back, looking mildly concerned with the end of the story.

Harry shrugged. “Anyway, that's how he got the nickname ‘Zoom’.” 

Cisco shifted in his seat, staring out into the dark and the lights of the gallery across the street. He shouldn’t be shocked by the tale. They’d seen Zoom catch lightning and break Barry apart with hardly any effort. He was dumping metahumans here to kill Barry with only the promise of being able to go home. The guy was a psycho, he shouldn’t be shocked. But yet, the cruelty of that story, leaving a messenger only to kill them when they’d served their purpose, it took away any hope there might be some mercy within the villain. He turned back to Harry, the man’s face was tight with anguish. The psycho had his daughter, could be doing anything to her.

“If you ever need me to vibe so you can know if she's still alive -.”

“She's alive!” Harry blurted forcefully, as if the alternative was something he refused to consider.

“Right,” Cisco muttered, turning back to the tablet.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly. “Vibe?” Lisa asked, her voice quiet and subdued.

He saw Harry stiffen and without looking at Cisco he shook his head a little.

Cisco winced but nodded at Lisa. “Yeah, I’ll…tell you sometime.”

Harry let out a silent sigh, his disappointment clear.

She looked a little confused but nodded in understanding that now was not the time. “As you wish,” she said quietly and they both went back to looking at the tablet.  


Patty grinned as Barry turned her under his arm and pulled her back in. “You are good at this,” she commented, looking surprised.

Barry shrugged. “My second year of college a friend talked me into taking ballroom lessons. He thought it was a way to meet girls.”

“And was it?”

“Depends what you mean by ‘girls’,” he answered, with a grimace. “The dancers tended to be creative types who could be a little self-absorbed. Not really my thing.”

“That does not seem your type,” she agreed.

“But I kept up lessons for two years. I actually liked the dancing,” Barry told her.

“Comes from watching all those musicals, I’m sure,” she said with a smile.

Barry smiled back. She had made an effort to know him in the brief time they’d been together. They’d never sat down to watch any old musicals together, but he had expressed his love of them, and she clearly remembered that. “Gene Kelly was -.”

 “We've got eyes on Turtle,” Cisco’s voice suddenly called out in his earpiece.

Barry looked over Patty’s shoulder, seeing the anarack wearing thief lifting the painting off the wall in the now empty viewing room beyond the dancefloor.

“Barry, you were saying?” Patty asked, sounding confused at his behaviour.

Barry managed to hide the grimace he felt at having to leave her. “I have to go. I'm sorry.”

“What? What?! But Barry -!” he heard her cry as he fled from the room at normal speed, before speeding off the retrieve the suit.

As he was returning, a few moments later, now in full Flash gear, he heard her crying; “CCPD! Freeze!”

There were gasps of shock from the crowd as Glosson, still carrying the painting in complete unconcern, strode towards Patty as if she wasn’t suddenly pointing a gun at him. She came with a gun in her purse? Of course, she did! As Patty began firing on the advancing criminal, the gallery patrons exploded in a din of chaos, Barry instantly weaving between fleeing bodies as he made his way up the stairs to look down on the scene, trying to assess what was going on. The patrons were running, only Len seemed to be still standing in place, although he was in the process of tossing his drink aside.

Barry watched as Glosson let out a pulse of his power and the bullets Patty sent flying stopped in mid-air, as their kinetic energy was sucked from them. Glosson walked over to her, pulling the gun from her hands and walking past her without a second glance.

The pulse ended when he was on the opposite staircase, looking back at the chaos he’d created with a slight smile.

“What?” Patty was staring at her empty fingers in confusion, before turning in a circle to see where he’d gone. “How are you as fast as The Flash?”

With Glosson now having the gun Barry knew it was time to make himself known. “Oh, no. He is much slower,” he called down from the upper balcony.

Both Patty and Glosson looked up at him.

Glosson stared in surprise. “This is a trap?” He gave a rueful tilt of his head. “I'm slow - not stupid.”

He let out a pulse of power, instantly freezing Patty in place again. Instead of trying to fire on Barry, who was currently beyond the field, he turned his attention to the huge crystal chandelier that hung over the dancefloor. He fired up into it, his aim good enough to break the chains holding it to the ceiling and the whole thing came crashing down. Right towards Patty. As the chandelier hit the energy field it slowed to a near standstill, only gravity allowing it to still move but with agonising slowness.

Barry burst into action, tearing down the stairs towards the detective. But Glosson sent out another pulse and Barry hit the energy field, slowing to a halt, watching impotently in mid-stride as the metal and glass structure got closer and closer to Patty. He hauled himself forward another step, the effort making every muscle scream in agony, but he kept pushing, until he felt another wave of inertness hit him. He let out a groan of frustration as all the energy was sucked out of him again. And then suddenly he was free, racing forward with full momentum, pushing Patty roughly out of the way. The last thing he felt was something hard hitting him in the head and back, and then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The Turtle has gotten away and now he's kidnapped Patty. What's a speedster to do?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Turtle has kidnapped Patty Spivot. Barry's determined to get her back and Len is determined to get his Cold Gun back from the second rate excuse for a thief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the second half of the "Potential Energy" episode. There's a lot more new scenes in this part of the story than the first part, so not so much of a re-hash from this point. 
> 
> I'm trying to keep the story centred on Barry and Len's growing relationship, so a lot of stuff, like Joe and Wally's interactions will be taking a back seat.
> 
> Also, I have no idea where in the world or who owns "The Crystal Ball or "Windflowers" but this is fan fiction (so fact checking is completely at my discretion). You can find images of them online at https://www.johnwilliamwaterhouse.net

Barry sat on the gurney in the med suite, a slight headache pulsing in the back of his head. He’d woken up about half an hour ago, feeling like he’d been crushed under a truck. Which was almost what had happened when he’d pushed Patty out of the way of the chandelier only to have it fall on him instead. Apparently it was so heavy it took Jay and Len’s combined strength to lift it enough, so Caitlin could drag him out from underneath.

Caitlin was currently checking him for head trauma. “Your pupils are normal,” she said, flicking a light in his eyes. She glanced over at the monitor she had him attached to. “Your heart rate's a little low. But other than that, no concussive symptoms.”

“I really do feel fine,” he assured her, climbing off the table. “What about Turtle?”

“No sign of him,” Harry told him.

“Or the painting,” Jay added. “He, uh, must have gotten away with it in the chaos.”

Cisco huffed in disgust as he leaned back in his chair at the workstation. “Yeah, things went a little sideways after your ex-girlfriend decided to go all ‘Lethal Weapon’ on him.”

“Oh, my God,” Barry moaned, running his hands over his face, suddenly remembering everything. “Patty's gonna think I abandoned her,” he started heading for the Cortex doorway. “I gotta go.”

Len stood up from where he was leaning against the back of the workstation. “Where are you going? Finding Turtle is what's important right now.”

Barry grimaced but shrugged. “Look, she’s still my friend, okay, I don’t want to lose that. It’s important to me,” he added when Len still looked unconvinced. Perhaps doubting his motivation at going to see her? Barry couldn’t think about it now. He could see the others were looking unconvinced as well. “Guys, she just got flung backwards at superspeed. Did anyone stay to find out if she was alright?”

There was silence as they all looked between each other.

“Exactly,” Barry snapped. “And without Joe there to look after her as her partner we have no idea what sort of condition she’s in. I have to go.” Without a look back, he sped from the room, heading straight for Patty’s place.

When he arrived at her apartment he was surprised to find the front door ajar. Frowning, he gingerly pushed it all the way open and slowly stepped inside. A call of her name produced no response and in frustration and worry he sped around the apartment, finding no sign of her. When he came back to the living room he stopped and started looking around. It didn’t take him long to find the empty gun holster on the side table. He started looking around for the gun, but then recalled Patty had it in her purse at the gallery and Glosson took it from her.

As he stepped around the sofa his foot rolled on something. There were bullets on the floor. He squatted to pick one up. It had clearly been fired, the back casing was missing. But they were still fully formed, as if they hadn’t hit anything, like they’d – _just stopped mid-air!_

He pulled his phone from his pocket, calling Joe on instinct. It seemed an age to the speedster before his foster father picked up, but it was only three rings. “Yeah, Joe, look I think the Turtle has Patty!”

“What, how?” Joe sounded shocked and half asleep.

“Look, just meet me at STAR Labs, okay, I’ll explain everything there.” He hung up and was speeding back to the labs before Joe could even respond.

  


“Bear we'll find her,” Joe assured him.

They were all in the Cortex. It was well past midnight, and everyone looked a little strung out. It had been two hours since Barry had returned to the Labs fearing Patty’s kidnapping. Joe had called the station and all the hospitals but no one fitting Patty’s description had been admitted.

Cisco, with the help of Caitlin and Lisa had been trying to find any of the items Glosson had stolen, the female thief well versed in the use of the dark web to find illegal sales sites and auction houses.

The engineer suddenly sat back, throwing his hands up in defeat. “We’re not getting any leads on this guy. It's like he's totally fallen off the grid. You know, any of the stuff he's stolen, we can’t find it.

“He keeps them,” Mick suddenly growled into the frustrated silence that followed. Everyone looked at him. The arsonist shrugged as if it was obvious. “Like a serial killer collects trophies.”

There was more silence as everyone looked at Rory like he was some sort of closet genius.

Cisco frowned. “He's stolen a lot of stuff.”

Joe stood up quickly, coming to Cisco’s work station. “Which means he needs a lot of space to store it, right? That's where we start. See if he rented any storage spaces.”

“Very good,” Len murmured. “I can see why they made you detective.”

Joe glared at him as Cisco worked his magic at the computer. There had been more than a few angry words from Joe about the Rogues being present and only Barry’s repeated assurances that he was watching them and wouldn’t let them get away with anything other than their Guns, had calmed him down.

“No, no I'm not getting anything,” Cisco said in clear disappointment.

“Wait a minute,” Lisa said, pulling up Glosson’s criminal file on her screen – she really was getting comfortable using the STAR Labs computers! “His wife, who filed for divorce by the way, used to be an archivist for antiquities at the Naydel Library before it shut down.”

“Naydel shut down three months after the accelerator exploded,” Len put in, looking over her shoulder.

“And you know that how?” Joe demanded.

Len shrugged as if it was unimportant. “We may have had a look around afterwards.” He smirked at Joe’s outraged expression. “They’d already removed anything of value.”

Joe grunted. “That place is big enough to hold Turtle's stuff.”

“Okay, all right,” Barry said, suddenly bouncing on his feet in anticipation of being able to act.

“Wait, Barry we haven't even figured out how to neutralize the Turtle's power,” Harry told him, looking frustrated he was about to run off.

“Well, I'm gonna have to power through it,” Barry shrugged. A heavy hand grabbed his shoulder.  

“No, you’re going to wait five minutes and make some sort of a plan rather than rushing off and thinking your speed is the only thing that can help,” the thief snapped, the grip on Barry’s shoulder becoming painful as Len squeezed to make him aware how serious he was.

“He’s gonna kill Patty!”

“That’s always possible, but has he ever stolen a person before?” Len questioned. “Do you know what he’ll do with a person? No, you don’t. If he just wanted her dead he would have killed her in her apartment. Stop overreacting out of fear and start thinking.” He paused, his mind clearly churning through possibilities. “Mick, Lisa, get one of the STAR vans ready to go.”

“On it,” the arsonist said, striding out of Cortex on his way to the parking garage, Lisa on his heels.

“Ramon, grab me some more of those Distractors,” Len said then. “The shockers. And a pair of those dampening cuffs.”

Cisco gave Barry an uncertain glance but nodded and stood up. “Sure, dude.” His disappeared towards his workshop.

“Okay, when I was at the museum it felt like this guy was sending out some sort of wave that collected all the energy towards himself,” Len said, his brows still drawn together.

“Yes,” Harry said. “It’s how he transfers all the kinetic energy into himself.”

“And he can’t collect more until people start to move again?”

“That’s right.” Harry was sounding a little confused where Len was going with this.

“So how long between waves?”

“From what we’ve seen up to now, there’s only two tenths of a second between pulses,” Caitlin told him. “That’s the only time any of you get to make a move, and honestly, Barry is the only one who can change positions fast enough to make a significant move.”

“See, I’m the only one who can do this,” Barry insisted, trying to pull away but Len held him in place.

“Glosson’s careless,” Len said then. “He didn’t even wear gloves at the museum. He relies completely on his powers. He probably thinks he’s got away with it.”

“But he worked out it was a trap,” Barry said. “He has to know we’re looking for him now.”

“Yeah but that just means he thinks The Flash will come by himself. He’s not expecting us. A double assault will work better than a single one.”

“What are you thinking?” Barry asked, finally beginning to see the plan Len was concocting.

“We’ll go in first, get a position out of sight and wait. You make your move, then we’ll distract him.”

“What do you think you can do?” Harry asked. “You’ll be as incapacitated as anyone else.”

“Two-tenths of a second is still time.” Len smirked at the scientist. “And I’m a master of timing.” He let go of Barry’s shoulder only to poke his chest. “You keep an ear out in your coms.”

Barry nodded. At that moment Cisco came back with the Distractors, handing Len ten of them, along with a pair of cuffs.

“Ramon what can you see of the building from here,” Len asked. “Are there anything other than the lights on? Any security, cameras?”

Cisco swivelled his chair round and started work. It was only a minute before he sat back, shaking his head. “Nah man. Apart from one small section on the ground floor, in the centre of the building. Energy usage for the last month has been tiny. He’s only just got the lights going.”

 Len nodded and poked Barry again. “You hold back until we get there and get in position.”

“Okay, okay,” Barry said, holding out his hands for peace. They were so talking about this one Friday night.

 

The night was bright and clear as Barry raced to a stop outside the Naydel Library. From outside it looked dark and deserted. He could see the STAR Labs van parked down a side street.

“Okay, we’re in,” Len’s voice came over the coms. “Two minutes until we get in position.”

Barry drew a deep breath, trying to calm his heart. He knew this was the sensible thing to do but at the same time he was desperate to get to Patty. Len was correct, Glosson could be holding her hostage but he could also have already killed her by now. There was no way to know.

“Okay, I got the satellite up and running on the building,” Cisco said through the coms. “Other than the Rogues there are only two other heat signatures. One moving around, the other immobile. Looks like Turtle and Patty.”

Barry sighed out another breath, hoping Cisco was right, although his chest loosened a little at the information. As much as Barry adored his speed and the range of abilities it gave him, it was times like this he hated it. Two minutes felt like a lifetime to wait for the Rogues to be in position, somewhere close to Glosson but out of sight. By the time the two short clicks that were Len’s signal came through, Barry felt like he was about to burst apart with contained energy. But with that signal he ran, storming through the front doors and heading straight to the library centre where Glosson was holed up with his trophies.

Surging into the room he took in Patty, crying and distressed, struggling against her bonds. Glosson appeared to have been trying to insert a large needle into her arm from a machine beside her but was currently looking to the dark area behind him between two huge glass display cases. Barry was horrified to see the preserved body of a woman standing in one of the cases. Is that what he had in store for Patty? Why?

The Turtle turned to face him, and Barry managed another three full steps before Glosson let loose a surge of power, the wave of inertness hitting Barry, stopping him in his tracks. It was only as he watched Glosson walk towards him unaffected that he could make out the glint of light on the Distractors as they floated in mid-air moving forward and down, ever so slowly as gravity continued to pull them towards the floor a foot in front of Patty’s chair.

Barry put all his power into movement, trying to maintain his momentum but he only managed one more stride before Glosson was on him, pummelling him with punch after punch and all Barry could do was stand in mid-step and take them until Glosson let go of his power and Barry crumpled to the floor, bleeding from multiple cuts in his lips, his ears ringing and his head throbbing from the last effects of the blows.

He needed more speed, so he needed more distance. He sped from the room, dashing back down the street.

“Two seconds,” Len’s voice rang in his ear.

Barry turned and raced back down the road towards the library, counting off those two precious seconds in his head as he burst into the room again, hoping this time he had enough speed up to keep moving. Glosson was already back by Patty’s chair, this time with a curved old knife, readying to kill her quickly now. Barry kept moving, just as Glosson let out another pulse of energy and Barry was again stuck, feeling like he was moving through wet cement. But he kept moving, kept ploughing forward, one foot in front of the other, letting out a groan at the effort. Glosson let out another pulse, looking confused at Barry’s ability to power through, his whole concentration on the speedster in front of him. When Barry managed another step Glosson began to look frustrated and let go of his power for just an instant so he could summon another, stronger pulse. In the moment he did, the Distractors went off and electricity surged across the floor, grounding through the Turtle’s feet. The man screamed in agony, his pulse dissipating and Barry barrelled forward, his momentum finally released and ran into the staggering villain throwing him backwards, where he hit a concrete pillar so hard he slumped to the ground unconscious.

Barry stopped, bent double and panting as Len, Lisa and Mick stepped from the shadows on the far side of the display cases.

“Come to me, baby,” Mick cried with joy as he made his way to the table on the far right of the room where their guns were displayed. He ripped Turtle’s cataloguing tag from it with disgust and kissed the Heat Gun with reverence. “Ah, I’ve missed you.”

Barry rushed to where Patty was seated, looking terrified but bemused by the sudden turn of events as Barry took up the knife Turtle had dropped and cut her free.

“It's all right,” he told her calmly as he cut away the last cable tie.

She instantly threw her arms around him, holding his waist tight. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, whoever you are,” she sobbed, clearly still frightened over the near-death experience. “He was…gonna stick me in the cabinet…he was gonna…he thought I was special to you because you saved me…he wanted to…like his wife…”

“It's okay,” Barry reassured her in his vibrating tone, as he held her back. “It's okay.” He was again struck that he’d made the right decision to let her go. If the Turtle could make such an assumption about her in one moment, then what could some other villain like Zoom do if he’d continued to have her as his girlfriend.

There was a clicking sound and Barry looked over to see Len closing the dampening cuffs over Glosson’s limp wrists. Even as he held Patty tight he was also struck by the fact he was making the right decision by keeping Len secret. If it had been public he was seeing Len, then would the Turtle have stolen the thief? Would Len already be in cabinet, preserved, before Barry would have known to come looking for him?

The thief gave Barry a long and considering look, taking in him holding the crying woman. His signature smirk formed as he tilted his head to the side. “Well Flash, it’s been fun,” he drawled out, looking amused. “I’ll leave you to deal with the damsel. My friends and I have other places to be.”

Lisa handed Len the Cold Gun, which he quickly holstered by his side and they all turned and left the building, Mick dragging Glosson’s body away with them.

Patty was staring, one hand leaving Barry’s waist to point after them. “They – they can’t take him, he’s a suspect in a series of crimes.”

“It’s complicated,” Barry told her, trying to think up something on the fly. They hadn’t discussed what would happen after they caught Turtle, although Len knew they needed him back at STAR Labs. “But he stole their Guns and in return for their help in freeing you, they wanted him for themselves.”

“But – but that was Captain Cold, I mean, he’ll kill Glosson, you can’t let him -.”

“It’s okay detective,” Barry assured her. “He won’t kill Glosson. But Glosson also won’t be hurting anyone ever again.”

“But -.”

“Just trust me on this,” Barry told her, rubbing her back slowly as she was still trembling. “Glosson will end up in Iron Heights soon enough.”

She still looked uncertain but nodded. “I – I trust you,” she muttered, again relaxing her head against his abdomen.

Cisco must have called the police as Barry began to hear sirens in the distance. He let go of Patty, taking a step back. “Well, that’s my cue to leave. I’m glad you’re alright detective.”

“Thank you,” she said again, still looking too weak to get out of the chair.

He gave her one more nod and sped away.

 

Barry was standing outside the pipeline cell as Glosson came to. Joe had come to get his first good look at the criminal who’d almost killed his partner and Len was looking on in interest.

“Hey, Turtle,” he called to get the man’s attention as he took in his new surroundings. The thief looked back through the glass with sudden anger. “So, you want to know my new definition of irony? Now you, are our most prized possession.” He grinned as Glosson let out a pulse, only to have it bounce back into the cell with him. The Turtle growled loud with angry rage as Cisco closed the heavy outer doors.

“What happens to him now?” Len asked, as they descended the ramp.

“We’ll keep him in there until we find out how to use his particular powers against Zoom, see if we can slow him down. Then Glosson will mysteriously turn up in the meta wing at Iron Heights while he awaits trial for all the thefts he’s pulled. And the murder of his wife. And the attempted murder of Patty.”

“So, he will have his day in court?” Len asked, something intense in his tone and expression that made Barry stop to look at him.

He pulled the cowl back. “Of course, why wouldn’t he?”

“Just not the way you’ve chosen to do it in the past,” Len drawled, judgement heavy in his tone.

Joe stepped round in front of Len as Barry frowned in confusion. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Snart?”

“It means I had to take it upon myself to release five people who were being held without charge or trial, in solitary confinement,” Len told him, pointedly. “And, who were about to be sent to the other side of the world to be held in even worse conditions.”

Joe let out a huge huff of amusement. “You’re trying to say you were doing good, letting those criminals go that night.” Joe poked him in chest with a hard finger, Len just looking at it in disdain. “Those criminals who, the moment they got their powers back, started to try and kill everyone around them.”

“You were their captors, of course they were going to try and kill you,” Len brushed the finger aside. “I might not be a big fan of the justice system – too many mistakes made.” He looked pointedly at Barry. “But it’s still the only one we’ve got. If those metas were supposed to answer for their crimes it should’ve have been through the usual court system, not being made to disappear off the face of the earth into some private jail.”

“Snart, what those people did -.”

“Wasn’t anything amazing. They robbed banks, they killed people. Perfectly normal crimes. It was just the way they pulled them off that was a little different. All the same laws and punishments should still apply.”

Joe’s face was set in anger and he looked about to retort but Barry put a hand to his shoulder. “Joe, he’s right.”

Joe stared at him, incredulous.

“Tell me he isn’t?” Barry demanded, suddenly feeling the weight of everything that happened that night at Ferris Air again.

“Dude,” Cisco said from beside him. “We didn’t have a choice. It’s not like we had the meta wing at Iron Heights then, or even the dampening cuffs. It was move them or let them die.”

“Or put them somewhere else,” Len put in. “An option none of you seemed to think of at the time.”

“What do you mean?” Barry asked, suddenly curious.

“You had the ability to knock them out and keep them unconscious. You had Ramon’s ability to dampen their powers in that truck. Why wasn’t that ability placed in a room in this massive facility with however many unused labs and offices to keep them in one place rather than risk moving them. Reverse Flash could have his little re-do with the accelerator, then you could have put them back in their cells afterwards.”

Cisco crossed his arms, staring Len down. “And why didn’t you suggest this at the time?”

“Science isn’t my strong point,” Len admitted easily, with a flippant wave of his hand. “Besides, I thought it was an option you would have considered and tossed out for whatever reason. Your little truck plan was already in place when I was brought on board, remember?”

“Well isn’t twenty-twenty hindsight just a wonderful thing,” Cisco sneered, stalking off towards the elevator.

Barry watched him go, Jay and Caitlin quickly following, leaving only Joe and Len in the corridor with him. Barry ran hands over his face, suddenly feeling an odd clench in his stomach.

“Barry,” Joe said, getting his attention. He pointed at Len. “Don’t let him second guess you on the decisions you made back then. You did what you thought was right.”

“It was the best I could do in a bad situation,” Barry agreed. “But he’s right, I could have done better. We all could have.” He looked over at Len. “I never _wanted_ to send those people to Lian Yu, it just seemed the best solution at the time. So, thank you, for not letting me make a bigger mistake than I already made by keeping them here.”

Len stared at him in shock, his bottom lip dropping slightly at the thanks coming out of nowhere. Then the usual smirk reappeared. “Anytime, Flash,” he drawled, sauntering off towards the lifts, one hand resting lazily on the Cold Gun.

“What the hell was that?” Joe demanded, when the thief was out of earshot.

Barry shrugged. “Credit where credit’s due. His intention that night might not have been to keep me moral, but it’s what he ended up doing. We all owe him thanks for that.”

“Barry, you can’t thank that man for putting dangerous criminals back on the street.”

“No, but I can thank him for saving my soul.” He rolled his eyes at Joe’s raised eyebrows. “Come on Joe, you never agreed with the plan in the first place, you said yourself it was all a walk on the dark side. Don’t brush Snart’s words aside just ‘cause you don’t like who’s saying them.”

“He said that night he wanted them for his Rogues.” Joe reminded him.

“And where are they?” Barry asked, his arms spreading wide. “He hasn’t pulled a job with any of them since they’ve escaped and even when Mardon broke him out of jail he didn’t take advantage of the situation. Hell, he even warned me about what Mardon and Jesse were planning. He didn’t want them for his Rogues. He did it for the reasons he just said, ‘cause it was a shit thing to do to anyone, especially by people who are trying to be better than the criminals.”

“I am worried about you,” Joe said then.

“About what?”

“You keep giving that man the benefit of the doubt, he will use it against you.”

Barry sighed, running a hand over his hair and turned towards the elevators, leaving Joe behind. “Yeah, well if he does you can say ‘I told you so’.” Seemed like everyone was disappointed with him and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

 

Thursday morning found Barry stepping out of the elevators and into the precinct foyer, nervous and out of sorts. Joe had told Barry that he’d found Wally street racing, which was bad enough but now Barry seemed to be getting friendly with the Rogues, letting them get away with their Guns, when in Joe’s opinion Barry should have confiscated them and had Cisco destroy the weapons. The police detective seemed to be questioning his own morals, as his whole family seemed to be doing illegal things around him and he had to turn a blind eye. Barry was still feeling the sting of Len’s comments on the pipeline prison and the whole Ferris Air affair and wasn’t up to listening to Joe’s further lecture, and so had sped out of the house in a huff.

He headed up to his lab, baulking at the amount of work he had to do. Last night’s rescue of Patty had seen the police collect all Glosson’s stolen trophies as evidence and now it was up to Barry to prove that Glosson had touched all of them by taking fingerprints and making sure they were all labelled and recorded correctly so that when Glosson was finally charged, he could be tried for all the thefts. Although the items might have been of sentimental value to the owners, there were still a lot of them, like ‘The Crystal Ball’ that were worth a large amount of money and so they were all being held downstairs in a special evidence locker. He was going to be running up and down all day (maybe the rest of the week), collecting and processing.  Barry sighed, turning on his computer and resting back in his chair as it booted up.

At least he didn’t have to worry about the body in the cabinet. Other CSIs that had been on shift that night had the unfortunate honour of processing the scene before the woman’s preserved body had been taken away by the coroner. From Patty’s statement it seemed the woman was Glosson’s wife. She’d been on the verge of leaving him and he’d snapped, unable to consider life without the thing he thought most precious. He’d killed but kept her, and the whole incident was what had triggered his warped stealing spree.

“Ah, hey,” came the tentative greeting from the doorway and he turned to find Patty standing there, holding an armful of files.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, getting up and coming over to her immediately. He hadn’t seen her as Barry Allen since the gallery. “Are you okay? Joe said you were kidnapped by Glosson!”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she said, glancing down at the files in her arms before looking back up at him. “I’d be better, if I had friends who’d stand by me when I’m in trouble, but you know -.”

“Patty, I’m sorry,” Barry told her sincerely, knowing he had no good excuse for abandoning her at the gallery that night.

“It’s okay, really,” she told him. “It made the decision a lot easier actually.”

“Decision? What decision?” he asked, confused.

“Barry, um I'm leaving Central City,” she told him with a weak smile.

“What?” he breathed out in shock.

“Um, before Mardon…before my dad…before everything, I always wanted to be a CSI. And four years ago, I was accepted into the Forensic Science program at Midway City University,” she told him.

Barry raised his eyebrows in surprise. In all the time they’d been going out she’d never mentioned wanting to be a CSI, even though he knew she liked the science. “That's a really great school.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, I just, uh I didn't go. You know, I deferred to become a cop and catch my dad's killer. And I've done that. So, um so it's time to move on.”

“Why was the decision so hard?” Barry asked, confused that she had any doubt now Mardon was behind bars.

“Ah, I just thought that maybe there might be a better reason to stay,” she told him, her look strangely hopeful. “But it turns out I was wrong. You abandoning me right before I almost died pretty much let me know where I come in your life.”

Barry stopped breathing. He didn’t know what to say to that. He was shaking his head, mouth open, unable to find words – either an excuse for abandoning her or that she’d been thinking about staying for him.

“So, with all that in mind,” she continued, shifting the files in her arms and holding them out to him. “I need you to compare these theft reports to the items we got from Glosson last night. Then I can start contacting the owners to let them know their items have been retrieved and will be available from evidence once the court case completes.”

“Yeah,” he replied, hastily taking the files from her. “I’ll return them as I finish with them.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking a step back and turning away, disappearing out the door before he could say more.

Not that he knew what he’d say in this moment. She thought he was a coward for abandoning her, not even a good enough friend to stand by her when she needed him. It made his gut twist in disgust, her thinking of him like that, but at the same time it was for the best. The sooner she was out of his life, the sooner she wouldn’t be in danger anymore. Midway university would be the best place for her now.

 

                When Barry knocked at the door of the safehouse on Friday night he was more nervous than he had been the first time he’d arrived. Len had shown disapproval for his actions for the first time and it had struck a nerve. He realised he cared about Len’s good opinion even more than he thought and he wanted to regain it.

                Len was dressed as usual, jeans, long sleeve Henley and barefoot. He smiled at Barry as he opened the door, taking in the luggage Barry was carrying with surprise.

                “I don’t remember discussing you moving in?” he commented with a smirk, as he closed the door behind them.

                “Ah, I’m on-call this weekend,” Barry told him, gesturing to the metal case that was his field kit. “CCPD won’t pay for CSIs to be available all hours of the weekend but if a crime scene needs to be processed they need someone to turn up. Unfortunately, this weekend that’s me.”

                Len frowned. “So, you could get called away anytime?”

                “Yeah,” Barry told him. “But I only have to collect evidence and return it to storage at the lab. I’m not expected to process anything until next week,” He dropped the case and his backpack on the floor near the door and leaned in to kiss Len in the usual hello kiss. “And you know how fast I can be out and back, so any interruptions should be minimal.”

                Len’s hands strayed all over Barry’s hips and butt, finally coming to rest on his waist. “Well, I can hope that crime is non-existent this weekend.”

                Barry grinned and kissed him again, the thief pulling him in tight as the meeting of lips became more heated. It was several minutes before they separated.

                “So, what’s in the backpack?” Len asked quietly, as they stood in each other’s arms, foreheads rested together.

                “Well I thought I should give you some evidence that I don’t always run into a situation completely unprepared. So, I brought the plans for dad’s escape. You said you wanted to take a look.”

                Len nodded his face genuinely interested. “Definitely. We’ll go through them after dinner.”

                Barry hummed in happiness, looking forward to whatever wonderful food Len would dish up this week. “What’s on the menu?”

                “A lamb and vegetable casserole with mash potato, followed by a chocolate and orange cheesecake for dessert.”

                Barry moaned in anticipation even at the sound of it.

                Len chuckled. “Honestly, Scarlet, you sound the same whether it’s food or sex.”

                Barry laughed. “Well, when you’re involved, they’re both equally good.”

                “Smooth,” Len drawled with a smirk.

                “I have my moments,” Barry replied with a grin.

                Len slapped his hip gently. “Sit down, I’ll go check the potatoes.”

                Barry watched him disappear into the kitchen, still smiling. He sat down on the sofa, noting the book resting on the coffee table. It was a large hardback of the life and works of the artist who had painted ‘The Crystal Ball’. Barry flipped through it, looking with interest at the glossy paged prints of the man’s many paintings and sketches.

“John William Waterhouse. Always liked his work,” Len commented from the kitchen door.

Barry looked at him, curious. “What, beyond its value?”

“Of course, beyond value.” Len looked offended, coming to sit next to him. “I’m not some uncultured heathen! His women are always so beautiful but at the same time, seeming sad.”

Barry stared at Len with growing appreciation as he took the book from Barry and flipped through the pages until he stopped at one that he held out for show. “That’s Windflowers painted in 1903. I own that one.”

It was the image of a young woman, holding back her long dark hair as the white and pink medieval style gown she wore was blown forward in the wind, her posture leaning back as if she was pushing into the gale that was trying to blow her forwards. She _was_ beautiful and sad, although Barry also noted some level of defiance in her expression, as if she wasn’t about to let the wind have its way with her. It was old-world, soft, romantic. Not the sort of image he’d thought Len would have been attracted too. But then he remembered his declared love for steampunk, and Sherlock Holmes and the old-world didn’t seem so out of place in Len’s character. 

“Own?” Barry asked, looking skeptically at his lover.

“Yes,” Len assured him firmly. “I do in fact pay for some of the art I collect. This one came up at an estate sale…about a decade ago now.”

“Where do you hang them?”

“They’re all in storage at the moment. But one day I’ll have a permanent place I can hang everything.”

There was an electronic _ding_ from the kitchen.

“That’s the casserole ready,” Len said, getting up. “I just have to mash the potatoes and then we’ll be ready to eat.”

 

As they sat down to dinner, Barry took in the heady scent of wine and garlic coming off the casserole. He then learned that Len made the smoothest, creamiest mash potatoes in the universe and he was soon moaning again at the amazing flavours, much to Len’s delight and amusement.

“Where was West this week?” Len asked, still looking amused. “He doesn’t seem the type to drop the ball, especially on his own partner.”

“He was chasing after Wally,” Barry said. “Turns out he’s been street racing since he got to Central.”

Len chuckled. “Looking for danger and adventure. Seems a West trait, given the police work and journalism.”

“Apparently he sells the cars he wins to pay his mother’s medical bills.”

“And for altruistic reasons, definitely sounding more and more like a West.”

Barry smiled. Yeah it was definitely like Joe and Iris, although Joe would certainly deny the whole looking for danger thing, at least when it came to himself.

“Yeah, Wally wasn’t too happy at being found out, and Joe isn’t sure about turning a blind eye. Sounds like their going to be taking this whole father and son thing a lot slower.”

“How was the damsel after her kidnapping?” Len asked, after Barry’s eyes fairly rolled back in his head at the first mouthful of casserole.

“She’s good,” Barry answered. “She thinks I’m a complete coward and has determined to leave Central City now she thinks I’m not good enough for her. But yeah, she’s good.”

“She wants to get back together?” Len looked concerned.

“Seems she was wanting too, though she hadn’t actually said so until yesterday when she basically told me she’s leaving to go back to college. Since clearly I don’t care enough to stick by her when she’s in trouble.”

“You’re worried she thinks badly of you?” Len seemed a little confused.

Barry sighed in frustration. “After taking a chandelier to the head for her, it really does feel unfair that she thinks I’m a coward. I just wish I’d been able to tell her the truth, you know. She could have handled it.”

“There are a lot of people who could handle the truth, Barry. It doesn’t mean they should all know.”

Barry nodded. “I don’t want to get back together with her, but I’m sorry I can’t even stay on good terms with her. She was a worthy friend.”

“If you don’t want her back then you need to make it clear,” Len told him. “Letting her hold on to some fantasy it might happen in the future – well you know what that’s like.”

He huffed. “Yeah, I know all about that.” He took a sip of wine, amazed the flavour mixed with that of the casserole on his tongue, melding them together perfectly. He guessed he had to add Wine Appreciation to Len’s list of knowledge, as he couldn’t have chosen such a good match by accident. “I just hate being a disappointment and right now, everyone’s disappointed in me. Patty, Joe…you.”

                “What makes you think I’m disappointed?”

                “Wanting to run off and save Patty without a plan. The whole debacle at Ferris Air.”

                “I’m not disappointed, Barry. I may not have expressed myself properly back at STAR Labs. Having been in the prison system I know it’s no barrel of laughs. But general pop has a number of advantages over solitary confinement. Being able to see the sun is one of them. They may have deserved prison time for their crimes, but they didn’t deserve what you were putting them through.”

                Barry flushed in shame. “When we started this…when I got my powers and found out there were other people who could do such amazing things. I knew I had to help. But I…none of us…knew what we were doing. It was all so new, and we were just trying to play catch up.”

                “I get that, Barry,” he replied. “And you’re getting better at it. The city has the metahuman wing now and the dampening cuffs and Ramon’s Boot. You don’t have to resort to doing it all by yourself anymore. The only reason I brought up the topic in the first place was to make sure you had moved on to better things. And you have. Why is Joe disappointed in you?”

                Barry shrugged. “Just what you’d expect, me trusting you to help and that whole conversation in the pipeline. He still thinks you let them go because you wanted them for your Rogues.”

                Len grimaced slightly. “What I said to you that night wasn’t untrue. At the time I was thinking they’d be useful to me.”

                “So why haven’t you used them?”

                “Haven’t need their particular skills, yet.”

                Barry nodded, looking down.

                “You don’t seem upset by that.”

                “Told you, not asking you to change.”

                Len was silent for a long time. “Barry, my life…what I do…the type of people I’ve always surrounded myself with…betrayal is a common act…something I’m always on the look out for. When our Guns were stolen, it didn’t even occur to me that it wasn’t you…even if I thought it was for altruistic reasons.”

                “Betrayal isn’t something I do, Len,” Barry told him. “If it ever came to a moment like that. I’d at least have the courage to do it myself, to explain why. I wouldn’t hide behind someone else.”

                “I know that now,” Len replied. His face took on a conflicted expression, something agonised. “I…I don’t say it Barry. I can’t say it.”

                Barry smiled gently and put his hand over his on the table. “Not in words,” he said, knowing exactly what Len was talking about. “But you helped catch Glosson, you helped save Patty. Actions speak just as loud.”

                Len actually flushed a little, his skin darkening as he gave Barry a look of such gratitude the young man’s heart ached. “I did that to keep suscipion off us.”

                “How did you think that was going to work?” Barry asked.

                “If I’d just walked away and let you retrieve our Guns yourself, you would have had to find a way to return them – and that wouldn’t have looked good to your team. If we were there to take part in getting them back, then we could just walk off with them like we did, nothing to reflect on you.”

                Barry nodded in understanding and there was silence for a few long minutes again as they went back to their food. “Why don’t you say it?” he asked, curious.

                Len shifted but continued to look down. “Because when Lewis woke up hungover and saw the bruises, he’d say it. Social workers and lawyers would say it when they failed to get us away from him. Kids in juvie would say it while they beat you up. Foster parents would say it when they sent you back to the group home. It became a meaningless phrase. Now actions are the only things I count on.”

                Barry sped round to Len’s side of the table, leaning down close as the thief stared up at him in shock at him suddenly by his side. He reached out to place a gentle hand on Len’s cheek. “Then count on this,” Barry said, with a soft smile, leaning in to kiss him gently.

                Len put his hand over Barry’s, responding just as softly. They pressed their foreheads together, Barry wishing Len could feel everything that was threatening to make him burst in that moment. All the sympathy, gratitude, love…yes…love, he felt for the man right then.

                “Smooth,” Len whispered, a catch in his voice Barry had never heard.

                Barry smiled, letting his hand trace down his neck to rest on his shoulder. “You said something about cheesecake?” he asked hopefully.

                Len huffed in amusement and nodded. “Yeah, just give me a minute to serve up.”

 

                After two huge wedges of the richest, most delicious cheesecake he’d ever eaten, Barry cleaned up at superspeed while Len busied himself with retrieving the large box from Barry’s backpack. By the time Barry had the dishwasher going and had given the benches a final wipe down, Len had laid the plans out on the dining table and was surveying the map of the prison while flipping through Barry’s notebook of details he’d kept.

                Barry started to explain but Len simply placed a finger to his lips to silence him and kept his attention on the notebook while looking at points on the map. Barry stood back, watching the thief look over the work. He started to pace after about ten minutes of silence, wringing his hands and wondering what Len was thinking. The thief had put down the notebook, though he kept referring to it from time to time, his hands resting on the table as he looked over the map, tracing the escape route with a long finger. There was such a look of intense concentration on his face and he murmured to himself from time to time, too soft for Barry to hear. The speedster began to wonder if this was how Len looked when he was planning his own heists.

                “Where is this?” he pointed to a section of the map, looking confused.

                “Oh, those are the old maintenance tunnels that run under the south wing. You’ve seen them,” Barry said.

                Len frowned. “Have I?”

                Barry looked at him, confused. “I thought from the Christmas scene that Mardon broke you out of your cell first. Is that not how it was?”

                “No, he got me first.”

                “Well, down in these tunnels is where they retrofitted James Jesse’s cell. Mardon took you down there, right?”

                “Oh, yes,” Len said, with a nod. “They’re a bit of a maze. I got turned around. A bit more worried about what Mardon was planning than keeping an eye on what direction I was facing.”

                “Yeah, well, there’s an access door to the sewer system down there. That section is really old, from the days they made them big enough for a man to walk through.” Barry came to stand beside him, pointing at the small red mark on the map. “From there the sewers continue to run south until they come out near the main road.”

                Len continued to look at the map, turning to a page in Barry’s notebook with one hand, the other reaching out to begin unbuttoning Barry’s shirt, experienced fingers making short work of the buttons without having to see them.

                Barry watched the fingers on his shirt, surprised but delighted by the action.

                “Where were you going to get the chemicals for the smoke bombs?” he asked, his finger pressed to the formula in Barry’s notebook.

                “The advantage of being a science geek and teacher’s pet. My Chem teacher would pretty much just hand me the key to the chemical storage closet if I asked.”

                Len looked impressed, moving behind Barry to gently remove the shirt, hanging it over the back of a dining chair, so Barry was standing in just the t-shirt he wore underneath. “And how did you think the stink bombs would help you? Guards wouldn’t be incapacitated by having to hold their noses.”

                “Give me some credit,” Barry said, a little offended. “They’re not ordinary stink bombs. These were strong enough to cause a wave of nausea. Possibly even vomiting.”

                “So, you cut the power specifically to the camera system, so they think it’s only a malfunction,” Len said.

                “Ah, yeah,” Barry replied. “In those days the CCTV viewing was conducted here -,” he pointed to a room that these days he knew was an admin office. “- and it had been retrofitted from an even earlier location, so the electrical cables were actually running along the ceiling in the corridor outside. Cutting them would have been easy, although I never did have a good idea on how to cover over the cut.”

                “Wouldn’t have mattered,” Len told him. “They’d be looking in all sorts of places in the system, not right outside the door. Would have taken them hours to address it and by then you’d have been long gone.”

                “No, I wouldn’t have,” Barry said, feeling a rush of long dead emotion come floating up as he looked down at the plans again. “I’d have been caught.”

                “What makes you say that?” Len demanded.

                “’Cause dad would never have come with me. Even if I’d made it to his cell he would have told me that this wasn’t the way. We would have still been fighting about it when the guards came.”

                “You can’t know that,” Len said.

                “Yeah I can. I mean, I always knew it would be that way. But, I don’t know. I was just sick of feeling so powerless. Knowing for a fact dad was innocent but not having anyone believe me. I felt like I had to be doing something about it, even if it wasn’t the right thing.”

                “Is that why you never went through with it?”

                “Told you, Joe found out, never got to finish it.”

                Len huffed out a sound, something between amusement and disgust. He waved a hand at the plans on the table. “This is finished, Barry. Nothing more to plan. The only thing I can see missing is a get away driver, which I’m assuming would be your dad if he went with you. You have everything else squared away.”

                He stepped close to Barry, his hands sliding under Barry’s shirt, causing a warm flush through Barry’s torso. His hands continued upwards, sliding Barry’s shirt up and over his head, the young man easily lifting his arms, so Len could slowly undress him.

                “How old were you when you put this together?” Len murmured as he laid the t-shirt over the back of the same chair.

                “Fif-fifteen, when I started,” Barry stuttered out as Len’s lips found his neck, his hands coming to rest on his thief’s shoulders. “Sixteen and a half by the time Joe found out.”

                Barry cried out as Len sank his teeth into his neck hard and sudden. He was panting in shock when Len lifted him, pressing him up against the nearest wall, his legs automatically wrapping around his hips.

                “Len?!” he cried out as he was bitten again, not knowing what he’d done to deserve the attack.

                “Fifteen!” Len growled in his ear. He let go of Barry, letting the weight of his body pressing him to the wall hold him up as he lifted his hands. “Fifteen!” He nearly shouted, slapping the wall beside Barry’s head with a vehemence that started to frighten the speedster.

                “Len what -?”

                “It would have worked, Barry,” he snarled again, the intensity in his icy blue eyes stopping the breath in Barry’s throat. “It would have worked! At fifteen you could have broken a man out of prison!”

                Barry felt his face heat up, looking down between them. From this position, pressed so close together it was impossible to not feel the hard bulge of Len’s erection pressed between his legs.

                “Oh, Scarlet, do know what I’m going to do to you?” the thief demanded in a deep growl that spoke only of lust.

                Barry’s eyes were wide, as he mutely shook his head.

                “First, I’m going to punish you -,” Len slapped one buttock bruisingly hard, causing Barry to hiss in pain. “- for being anything other than the master criminal you could have been.

                “Then, -,” his voice dropped to a soft whisper, as he nuzzled gently at Barry’s earlobe, kissing it with tenderness. “- I’m going to worship you for the amazing young man you are, who can clearly turn his hand to anything he puts his mind to.

                “And then…then Barry Allen, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress until we both pass out.” He bit down on Barry’s neck again, gentler this time, just enough to make Barry sigh in contentment. Barry grinned as he continued to graze on his neck, tipping his head back as an idea came to him. He turned his head, so Len was forced to pay attention to his lips instead and they were kissing deeply when Len suddenly looked up at the tap on his shoulder.

                There in Barry’s right hand was Len’s wallet, picked from his back pocket. Barry grinned at him. “One of the things about a good lift is the distraction, right?” he asked, all innocence.

                Len’s shocked expression quickly changed to that same deep intensity as before and he was crashing their lips together again, his tongue plunging deep as if he was trying to devour Barry’s very essence. As Len pulled them from the wall and began carrying Barry to the bedroom, the speedster laid his head down on his shoulder, letting out a relieved sigh. It would seem Len was no longer disappointed in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Barry has to deal with the emotional fallout from seeing the Reverse Flash again (with Len's help) and Len gets a proposal that might just be the answer to his change of life issues.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len helps Barry through the Blues after the Reverse Flash returns and learns a few more things about the Scarlet Speedster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late. My computer's power supply has decided to become temperamental and turn itself off at random times! Puts a bit of a dent in the creative flow when you have to remember to save LITERALLY every two minutes.
> 
> So after last chapter's re-write of an existing episode, which I found difficult and at times tedious I tried a new tack with this one "The Reverse Flash Returns". I'm still not entirely happy with the outcome, although it did provide a lot more of Barry and Len getting to know each other. 
> 
> Not having read the comics (only working from the TV series) the episode raised a lot of questions for me about how and when Barry and Eobard finally meet and become enemies, and I thought these questions would be plaguing Barry as well, so he gets to voice them in this chapter.
> 
> Thankfully next chapter starts Len's plotline in full, so there'll be a whole lot more new stuff and a lot less going over old ground. So hopefully you'll stick with me until then.

                Leonard Snart arrived a few hours early to the safehouse to begin preparations for his time with Barry. He hadn’t seen the speedster all week, though they’d exchanged a few brief conversations by text. Apparently, Joe’s wife, Iris and Wally’s mother Francine, had finally passed away and Joe and Iris were in a strange kind of mourning period, that included trying to help Wally through his own grief. The Turtle had somehow mysteriously died while in the pipeline cell. Although there’d been no evidence of foulplay, Barry had agreed with Len that it was indeed suscipious timing, but he wasn't about to start accusing people without proof. Apparently, Team Flash were now going to concentrate on closing the breaches to Earth-Two, although the science Barry had spouted about it was beyond Len. Oh, and Garrick was dying, some form of cellular degeneration that Snow was desperately trying to correct but so far had no solution for. Barry had then said something about trying to find Garrick’s Earth-One doppelganger, but they’d had no luck.

As he began creating a simple marinade for the steaks, he shook his head in astonishment at the complications of the young man’s life. He wondered how someone who had trouble getting himself out of bed in the mornings, could juggle so many family, friends, superpowered vigilantism and a CSI career. He was also amazed that the kid had found time to incorporate Len into that life, making him a priority.

The last three weeks had been a revelation for Len in so many ways. Barry was far more complex than the bright, honest young hero Len thought he’d chased down. The thief found himself staring out the window as he absentmindedly whisked the marinade, thinking back on last week’s realisation that the speedster could have been a credible criminal. He had to adjust his pants, the memory again stirring him to pure lust for the kid. With a shake of his head he pulled himself back from such thoughts and turned his attention to the dressing for the salad.

 

Len had the steaks marinating and had just finished putting the salad together when there was an unexpected rush of air in the apartment. Wondering how that was possible given that all the windows and doors were closed he came out of the kitchen into the living room to find Barry already standing behind the sofa.

Frowning he looked at the door, finding it still closed. “How did you get in?”

Barry looked a little uncomfortable. “Ah, I phased through the door.”

“Phased?” Len asked with raised eyebrows.

“Ah, yeah, if I vibrate at the same frequency as the air, I can pass through solid objects,” Barry said, coming around the furniture to wrap his arms around Len’s neck. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking. Got my head caught up in other stuff.”

Len leaned down to kiss him, Barry instantly relaxing into the connection. “You never cease to amaze me, Scarlet,” he drawled, looking at Barry closely. “But I don’t mind about you letting yourself in. I’ll give you a key next time. What’s on your mind?”

Barry looked down, his face scrunching into a grimace. “So much stuff. Too much stuff. Is dinner ready?”

Len grinned, his speedster was always hungry. “I just have to cook the steaks, but they won’t take long.”

“Leave it,” Barry told him, tightening his grip on Len’s neck. “I just want to be with you for a while.”

“What’s wrong?” Len asked, feeling the tension in Barry’s body.

“I’ve just spent the last week living in the past, and agonising over the future,” he replied, looking pained and angry all of a sudden. “But right now, I just want to be here, in the present. No thoughts for anything other than you and this moment.”

The young hero leaned in to kiss him again, deep and with increasing passion, making it clear exactly what he wanted from Len. Len returned the attentions with ease. Before or after dinner made no difference to him, though he was troubled by Barry’s comments. It didn’t seem like Barry was in the mood for conversation, the way his fingers were running over Len’s stubble and his swelling erection was pressing hard into his thigh, so Len lifted him up, the speedster instantly wrapping his long legs around his hips. A second later Len had him pressed against a wall, their bodies grinding together as their lips melded into one another.

“Fuck, I love it when you do this to me,” Barry moaned quietly, as he went for Len’s neck.

A lust filled growl erupted from Len’s throat before he could stop it. “I love doing it to you,” he snarled as he pressed Barry even harder into the wall, his hands gripping Barry’s arse in a bruisingly hard squeeze that had the young man groaning in pleasure.

After making out against the wall for many minutes Len finally carried him into the bedroom where Barry proceeded to show Len a dedicated attention that really did speak of him living in this moment alone. Barry had ridden his cock before, but the intensity of his gaze, the concentration on his actions, the force of his body slamming down onto Len’s – he really was totally focussed on his lover and Len felt a deep desire for more of this kind of attention from the young man. In the end Len was collapsed on his back, panting at the ceiling, while Barry continued to delicately kiss and caress his scars. The hot touches of his boy’s long fingers were relaxing and peaceful after the turbulence of sex and Len closed his eyes, quickly finding himself floating in a warm haze. Barry flashed away to retrieve a washcloth to clean them up and when he was done, he returned to straddle Len’s lap as the thief pushed himself into sitting position against the pillows.

He rested his hands on Barry’s hips as the young man took his face between his hands, staring at him with soft wide eyes, like he was some miracle to wonder at. Before Len could voice the obvious question, the kid leaned in to kiss him, pink lips soft and warm against his own. The kiss lingered for a long time, Barry taking control with gentle fingers stroking down Len’s jaw and neck, only to return to his cheeks with long caresses. His tongue pressed forward gently, asking rather than demanding entry. Len opened easily to him, accepting the speedster’s moist heat without hesitation. Still floating in the aftermath of orgasm it didn’t take long for Barry to have his head spinning, kiss-dizziness a new sensation as their tongues swirled in slow, sensual circles.

The kid’s hands were roaming further, long featherlight strokes down his arms and across his chest and abdomen, causing Len to shiver under the attention. His touch lingered over one scar on right side of his chest, a short cut from a knife wound. It had become one of Barry’s favourites, since it was in direct line with where his arm lay across Len’s chest when they snuggled together, the young man often absentmindedly stroking across it as he drifted off to sleep. Len always let out a small private smile when he found it, amused that of all the marks on his body Barry chose that one to concentrate on. The speedster hadn’t asked about its origin yet and Len was looking forward to the day he got to tell it, as Barry’s shock was going to be so worth it. 

As Barry pulled back to look at him, his hands rested on Len’s cheeks again, the warm tingles spreading across Len’s face caused another shiver of gentle pleasure. He thought he was maintaining his usual neutral stare, but something must have shown as Barry’s face furrowed in question. 

“What?” he asked quietly.

“I’m used to it rough,” he whispered, his voice strangely gravelly. “Haven’t ever really had this.” He reached out to touch Barry’s cheek in turn.

He turned his face into the touch, a gentle smile touching his lips as his eyes closed before a quiet sigh escaped him. “And?”

“I like it,” Len replied, kissing him just as delicately as Barry had him.

He received a contented hum in return and Barry’s fingertips sliding over his hair, causing another wave of tingles. The speedster’s lean body was all muscle, but Len was still amazed at how soft and pliant Barry could be under his hands as the kid relaxed completely against him, any resistance giving way under Len’s attentions. As the thief began stroking the length of Barry’s sides with his fingertips, he found himself melting back into the pillows, his body becoming like jelly with the press of Barry’s torso transferring his heat between them. It was so warm here, so comfortable, so safe. There was no battle for dominance or need to command control, only trust.

Len shivered again as Barry continued to kiss him. The only two people in the world he’d ever trusted were Lisa and Mick, yet here he was with sudden complete trust of the beautiful boy in his arms, letting him in to see the parts he always, _always_ hid from the world. And Barry Allen, The Flash, who had never been with a man before, was trusting his nemesis with the most intimate parts of himself, week after week. Part of Len’s mind wanted to rebel, to run away from such a ludicrously fanciful situation, fearing it could only ever end in pain. But he took control of it, pushing such thoughts away and instead let himself revel in the sensation of freedom Barry inspired in him. Things didn’t have to be the way they’d always been. He was allowed to change them, he had that right. He had never known such tenderness in his life, but he was damn well allowed to have it and right now he wanted more from the divine boy who was offering it to him so freely. 

As Barry pulled back to take a breath Len smiled at him, tilting his head up with a finger under his chin.

“I just realised something.”

“What’s that?”

“Your eyes are completely green right now.”

“Well people’s eyes do change with lighting and mood. It must be all the lo- lust I feel right now.”

Len smiled. “They’re gorgeous like this. I should keep you turned on all the time.”

Barry flushed prettily. “You already do,” he murmured, looking away as if embarrassed by that admission.

Len stroked his hand along Barry’s neck and jaw, surprised by the extent of the evidence he’d left behind. “You feel okay?”

Barry frowned a little. “Yeah, of course, why ask?”

He ran fingers over the large hickeys on Barry’s neck from their earlier love making, the obvious bite marks still showing despite Barry’s healing abilities. “Like I said, I can get a little rough.”

“You treat me like I’m not made of glass,” Barry replied. “I appreciate that.”

Len frowned. “Who treats you like glass?”

Barry huffed. “Everyone. Cisco’s always looking to improve the suit for my safety. Caitlin is always poking and proding to make sure I’m healthy. Joe tries to treat me like I’m strong, but I can see he’s always thinking of everything I’ve been through and worried if the next thing will be the one that breaks me. Whether it’s sex or conversation, you don’t treat me like I’m breakable.”

“Well, then, with that in mind,” Len said, wanting to understanding Barry’s behaviour before they got to much further into this weekend. “You ready to talk now?”

Barry looked uncertain and was about to say something when his stomach growled. He gave Len a rueful smile. “Over dinner?”

Len smirked. “Of course, Scarlet.”

 

Re-dressed and back in the kitchen, Len set about heating the pan for the steaks as Barry leaned against the bench, already picking at the salad.

“So, Reverse Flash came back this week,” Barry said.

Len paused with a frown. “Thought you said he’d been written out of existence? This got something to do with Eddie still being alive?”

Barry looked at him, slightly surprised but then shook his head. “No, we think he was a Time Remnant.”

“Okay, you’ll have to explain that to me,” Len told him, resting back against the bench and giving Barry his full attention. He got the feeling he had a science lesson coming on.

“Ah, Thawne isn’t born until far into the future. When I had him trapped last year he told me he isn’t born for another hundred and thirty-nine years. But he travelled back to kill mom and got stuck here, so had to become Harrison Wells and make sure I got made.”

Len nodded. “I remember you telling me that part.”

“Right, well Harry seems to think that the Thawne we saw this week was inside the Speed Force, travelling in Time, when his original was written out of existence. In a way he was kind of between dimensions, so it sheltered this version of him from the erasure. But this version of Thawne was from a Time before he went back to try and kill me, so he had no idea that we’d already met, or what’s going to happen to him when he gets stuck here.”

“So, why was he here?” Len asked. “Guy doesn’t seem to travel for vacation.”

“When I had him locked in the pipeline this week he told me he now knows what Time period I’m from,” Barry said, looking at the ground, his face warped in concern. “I think he’s been trying to find out where and when to find me, so he can kill me.” He ran hands over his face, as if trying to wipe away his worries. “He told me so much this week, and I’m having trouble processing it, and I’ve been wondering if I should even try.”

“Because any changes you make now might change the future slash past and might make it even worse than it already is,” Len put in.

There was something close to relief on Barry’s face as if he was glad he didn’t have to explain all this. “I’m so glad you’re so smart.”

Len smirked. “I watched ‘Back to the Future’ and ‘Terminator’, I think I got a handle on the basics.”

Barry let out a laugh that seemed to lighten his mood and he leaned in to kiss Len quickly.

“Tell me what else he told you,” he said as he placed the steaks in the pan to sizzle.

“Apparently he started out as some sort of warped fan boy genius,” Barry said, looking at the floor again. “Was so obsessed with The Flash that he spent years studying how I came to be and recreated the process, so he could become a speedster. But once he started travelling in Time he learned that he was only ever going to be the bad guy, so instead of trying to change that future he embraced it. Sounded like he happily became my enemy once he learned he was never going to be me.”

“Sounds like he was always a pyscho.”

Barry nodded sadly. “We found him this week trying to get back to his Time again, this time by getting Tina McGee to build him some tachyon machine to fling him back into the Speed Force. I arrived just in time to save him from killing her. But there was absolutely no reason to kill her. It wasn’t like she knew anything about him or me. She’d completed the machine exactly as he’d asked. All he had to do was go home. But he decided to kill her anyway, as if he got some satisfaction out of it. Like leaving her dead body for me to find was going to be the proof he’d won again. It really was psychopathic.”

“But you’ve got him locked up now, yeah?” Len asked, turning the steaks.

Barry huffed out a disgusted noise. “No! I had to let him go. Had to help send him back to his Time. With every bit of information he needs to make the future and past happen as it has, or will, or is,” Barry shook his head in frustration.

Len reached out to take his hand, drawing him in closer. He’d realised very early on that Barry took a lot of comfort from physical contact. It wasn’t something Len was normally comfortable with but with Barry he found himself having no reservations about being in such close proximity. “How did that happen?”

Barry sighed. “Once I captured him, it started to affect the timeline. Part of that affect was Cisco going into prolonged seizures that Caitlin couldn’t stop. The only way to save Cisco was to send Thawne back and get the timeline back to the way it was.”

“How did he get the information?” Len demanded, as gently as possible.

“Just by being,” Barry said. “Harry said, this was Thawne’s origin story. This week was where he learned about my Time period, about STAR Labs. He saw what Harrison Wells looked like, so he’ll know who to come after when he gets stuck here again. He saw Joe. He knows he has to hire Cisco and Caitlin when he opens STAR Labs. The one piece of information he didn’t have was my name. He still doesn’t know that Barry Allen is The Flash. But he was gleeful that he knew it wouldn’t take long to find out once he got home.”

Len watched his lover closely, marking the anger and frustration but something more that he’d never seen on Barry’s face before. It was something dark, malevolent. It was something Len didn’t like the look of, not on that beautiful face. “Barry -,” he started.

“At Christmas, I tried to forgive Thawne. Tried to find a way to let him go, and I thought I had. I thought I’d let go of all the anger I felt towards him. But seeing him this week, knowing that every evil thing he does is just to make my life a misery when I never did anything in the first place but simply exist,” the hand in Len’s was squeezing painfully hard, and Len began to realise just how much metahuman strength Barry hid inside that runner’s form. “ _I hate him_. I hate him so much I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Well, not breaking my hand would be a good start,” Len told with a small grin.

Barry wrenched his fingers from Len’s and fled to the living room with a quiet; “I’m sorry.”

Len watched him disappear with a frown. He plated the steaks, knowing they should be allowed to rest for a while but not wanting to leave Barry alone. He headed out to the dining table, retrieving the salad while Barry paced the living room, wringing his hands in distress.

The thief got his attention with a soft cough and held the chair for him again, the act somehow bringing Barry back to the present. The young man smiled at the romantic gesture, pressing a gentle hand to Len’s cheek before taking the chair.

“This smells great,” Barry enthused. “What did you marinate it in?”

“Nothing complicated,” Len told him, taking his own seat. “A little salt and pepper, some garlic and a few herbs. Just enough to add a depth of flavour without overpowering the meat.”

“Well enjoy it, apparently by Thawne’s Time, we’re out of cows.” Barry grimaced and shook his head, grabbing the bottle of dressing and drowning his salad.

“Something else you haven’t told me yet?” Len asked, still worried the kid was so agitated.

“Just everything has me thinking about the future and all the things I don’t know and can’t plan for.”

“Specifically?”

“When I first found out Wells was Thawne, he told me we’d been fighting for centuries. He isn’t born for another hundred and forty years. When I saw him this week he looked in his forties. Does that mean that I’m still going to be running around as The Flash in two hundred years? And if I am going to live that long then how am I going to age? Will I look forty when I’m two hundred? Does that mean Thawne is a lot older than forty? Is he two hundred and I have four hundred years of vigilantism to look forward too?” He shoved a huge piece of steak in his mouth and chewed viciously, swallowing too quickly. It must have got caught because he took a large gulp of wine.

“But he said that he’d been looking for what time period I’m from,” he continued, flailing the glass around. “How can he not know? There have been news reports, photos, blogs, internet chats, all manner of information regarding The Flash from the moment The Streak first appeared. How can he not have traced all that data back to the beginning? Am I supposed to delete every mention of me at some time in the future before we first meet? Why would I even consider doing that, unless it’s because I know what’s coming, now he’s travelled back in Time and exposed himself to me? And how am I even supposed to? Yeah, I could erase the electronic copies but what about the printed newspapers? There’d have to be copies of them still hanging around even in two hundred years. In fact, I _know_ there are.”

The kid was working himself up into a distressed frenzy, his voice getting louder and more stringent as he continued. “But what if it isn’t about living that long. What if it’s about Time travel itself. What if I end up like Thawne but thrown into the future rather than the past. What if I end up having to start a new life centuries from now with everyone I -.”

He finally stopped, looking down at his plate. His youthful features were warped with anguish, tears starting to spring in his eyes. “I don’t know what would be worse,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly shaking. “Living long enough to watch everyone I care about die or losing them all at once and having to start again all alone.”

He reached out to take Len’s hand across the table. “We’ve only just started…whatever this is. But already I don’t want it to end. And I want to say I’d never leave without telling you, that I’d – but I can’t make any promises.”

“Neither of us have made any promises, Barry,” Len told him gently. “I’m not at a point I’m expecting anything. Nobody knows what’s really coming.”

Barry drew a shaking breath and pulled his hand away, taking another large drink of wine. “It just all seems to be going around in circles. I used to think the future was affected by the past. Now I know it works both ways – I don’t know how to account for everything that could happen.” He sat back suddenly, anger again warping his features. “And all because he couldn’t be me! All because he couldn’t be The Flash, so he ended up making him!”

Len watched him trembling with emotion, both sadness and rage. He could imagine Barry had never felt real hate for anyone before. He was a forgiving and loving soul who would never have met anyone who deserved his hate. It had to be something new for him to deal with.

“You were right to try and let it go,” Len told him. “Carrying that rage will only harm you in the long run.”

Barry looked at him questioningly.

“I know a bit about that,” he gave him a weak smile.

Barry looked away, something ashamed in his expression. “Sorry. I forgot for a minute.” He looked back at him then. “How did you move on?”

“Never did,” Len told him. “Carried it to the end. Still carry it now he’s gone. Made me the man I am today. It was my hatred of him and everything he did that drove me. You really don’t want to end up like me.” He was serious. He couldn’t stand the idea of Barry’s soul being blackened. It’d remove a large part of what attracted him to the hero in the first place.

“Then what do I do?” he asked despairingly.

“You have the advantage over Thawne now, you always will have.”

“How?” he asked confused.

“You know how it ultimately ends,” Len told him. “You know that for every battle you lose in the future, you win the war. Everytime he thinks he’s got one over on you, you can smile and nod and move on to the next battle, the one you’ll give everything to win. Because you know there’s nothing in his future but failure.”

Barry smiled weakly, giving a thoughtful nod. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” He looked up at Len, staring at him intently then. “How did it feel for you, winning the war?”

Len frowned, considering his answer. “Freeing. But at the same time confusing. He’d been a part of my life for so long I’m still adjusting to life without the background threat.”

“He was always there?”

“He was always a consideration in my plans. I was always worried in the back of my mind what he’d try to do if I was too successful, too rich, made too much of a name for myself in the criminal underworld. And when I got the Cold Gun and he knew he could use it, those fears came true.”

“Well Thawne may be gone but I still don’t know what it’s like to win the war,” Barry told him. “I mean, it was Eddie who ended him, not me. I was on the verge of being killed if Eddie hadn’t shot himself.”

Len reached out and took his hand again, interlacing their fingers. “But he is gone. And whenever you meet him in the future, whether it’s a year from now or two hundred, you know that all your fighting and struggling will ultimately pay off. I never had that reassurance with Lewis. If I’d known all my childhood that he’d never hold sway over my whole life, that in the end Lisa and I would be free of him, I would have chosen differently.”

Barry was gazing at him with wide, wet eyes, his lips slightly parted and there was an expression of such understanding and gratitude Len didn’t know what to do with it. He went back to his food, gazing down at his plate, wondering how they’d managed to find such commonality in their disparate lives.

He uncharacteristically didn’t know how long it was before the clatter of cutlery on crockery brought him back from his thoughts and he saw Barry resting back in his chair, looking calm and full. His plate – and the salad bowl – were empty. Fuck, the kid could put it away. The conversation had raised a lot of questions for Len. He knew Barry wouldn’t have answers to most of them, that was what was troubling the kid. There was one though that might have an answer.

“How do you know there are still newspapers in the future?” he asked. “Have you travelled there?”

“No, thank god, I haven’t been that stupid or that unlucky - yet,” Barry added. “Thawne had a copy of a newspaper from eight years in the future. It was how he kept an eye on if the future was still unfolding the way it was supposed too while he was training me.”

“Can I see it?”

Barry looked surprised but nodded. “Ah, yeah. It’s in the Time Vault. I can take you to see it sometime.”

“This weekend?”

“Yeah, why so interested?”

“Eight years isn’t that far away, Barry,” Len told him. “It could give you clues.”

“Not sure if I want them,” Barry said, looking down again.

“I would.”

“Why?”

“Because eight years isn’t that far away,” he repeated. “Since I’m hoping we’ll still be together then I’d like to know what to plan for.”

Barry grinned, looking both happy and surprised that Len was considering this thing a long-term prospect.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll go tomorrow morning, early. Cisco usually doesn’t arrive until after ten on the weekend.”

“The kid works weekends?” Len asked, thinking maybe Ramon was more a workaholic than he ever gave him credit for.

“It’s not really work,” Barry told him. “He just likes to tinker in the workshop, spend time with his pet projects.” He grinned. “Unless he’s called away to more important things, like dates with a certain female thief.”

Len rolled his eyes.

“You don’t like them together?” Barry asked, looking concerned.

“Still in two minds,” Len drawled at him. “He’s a good kid and considering my sister’s past dating history it’s not hard to be pleased with the choice. Still, she’s my sister -.”

“And nobody is ever going to be good enough for her,” Barry finished.

“Precisely,” he said. “Let’s just say, if he isn’t ice in the next five years, he’ll have my approval. But don’t tell him that.”

Barry laughed. “Absolutely not.”

Len grinned but went back to finishing the last of his salad. “So, anything else significant happen this week I should know about?”

Barry’s smile fell, and he looked down at his empty plate, as if longing for more food just to give him a distraction.

“Scarlet?”

Barry grimaced. “Patty came to apologise for calling me a coward, said she honestly didn’t think that of me. And demanded to know why I was being like I was, running away at the gallery, not talking to her.”

“Thought you’d given your excuses?” Len asked, troubled that the pretty blonde kept coming up.

“I blew her off again. Told her my life was too complicated for a relationship right now,” Barry said, running a fingertip through a bit of dressing on his plate and sucking his finger. “But she’s too smart, and clearly cares too much about me. Decided to try and find out what I wasn’t telling her.” He looked up at Len then. “And she worked it out.”

Len sat straighter in the chair. “And?” he asked cautiously.

Barry shrugged, wringing his hands. “I denied it completely. She told me that she totally understood why I’d been lying and hiding things from her. She understood and could cope with it. If I’d just admit it she’d stay and then we could try again. I…I just kept denying it.”

The anguish in his voice was so real. “You were tempted to ask her to stay?”

Barry stared at him in shock, shaking his head vigorously, reaching out to grab Len’s hand, as if to reassure him. “No, no I want her to go. I want her to follow her dreams and not have regrets. But the look on her face, Len,” he whispered, looking down and clearly seeing it again in his mind. He grimaced in near physical pain. “I put that devastation there. I put the tears on her cheeks. I – I broke her heart.”

He ran his free hand over his face, still looking pained. “I’ve always been the one who gets hurt. I’ve never been the cause before,” he continued. “God, I hate how this feels.” Then to Len’s surprise he let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “And you know what, she called me from the train, told me there was a guy with a gun, threatening people.”

Len’s expression became knowing, shaking his head in disbelief the kid was that gullible. “You didn’t?” he demanded.

“Of course, I did. How could I not!” There was that pained laugh again. “And she smiled at The Flash and told him everything was fine. Like I was the one who needed to be made feel better. God, I could almost hate her for that.”

“But you can’t,” Len said, suddenly feeling a heavy weight in his stomach he didn’t have a name for.

Barry shook his head. He stared at Len again then, his expression pleading, begging Len for some advice, some words of wisdom to lessen the pain.

Len opened his mouth but paused. “Can’t help you. Never had to deal with the fallout of a broken heart. Never been in love or been loved for that matter.”

Barry smiled then, his expression enquiring. “You’re telling me there’s never been anyone who’s had a crush on Leonard Snart? I find that hard to believe.”

Len shrugged with a tilt of his head. “A few, but they never lasted long. I was too effective at driving them away. I liked to keep my life simple.”

 “And now?”

“Now, I’m ready for a few complications,” he replied, offering his lover a soft smile before lifting their joined hands and kissing Barry’s knuckles.

“Really?”

“Planning a heist down to the last second gives me great satisfaction. But when I look back, the most fulfilling were the ones that went off the rails and I had to improvise through. They were the ones that gave me the greatest rush. The ones that were even better when I succeeded. Complications add a spice I could never create on my own.”

As he stared into Barry’s rapidly greening eyes Len realised how true his words were. His old life had become predictable. Plan and execute a robbery, lay low until the heat was off, fence the goods, start researching the next heist, make a new plan. The arrival of The Flash had thrown that simple life strategy into disarray and Len was only just now beginning to understand that those complications had swung his life in a whole new direction, even before he’d seen the beautiful young face beneath the cowl. With a growing sense of wonder and gratitude towards the speedster Len stood, still holding Barry’s hand and gently drew him to his feet. The young man didn’t resist, easily following Len towards the bedroom.

 

When Barry woke the next morning, he was instantly aware the bed around him was empty. He sat up, surprised and a little anxious to find Len gone from his side but was almost immediately calmed by the scent of bacon and onion floating in from the kitchen. He sighed with a smile and climbed out of bed, quickly pulling on his jeans and making his way to where his lover was making breakfast.

He leaned against the kitchen door, watching as Len moved around the room, flipping fried eggs and stirring onions in another pan, only to grab a few toasted buns from under the grill, pulling them out with cast iron fingers that didn’t seem to feel any burn at the hot bread.

“Ketchup or barbeque sauce?” Len asked, without turning around.

“Barbeque,” Barry replied without hesitation.

                Len efficiently created a breakfast burger of eggs, bacon, sausage patties, onion and sauce. There was one for himself and two for Barry. Barry’s stomach growled at the idea of all that flavour and grease. It was odd, but he never had this reaction to Joe’s cooking. His body never went into the same sort of lustful desire for calorie intake as it did for Len’s food. He was grinning as Len handed him the plate and they moved to the dining table.

                “Can I ask a question?”

                “Thought we’d established asking wouldn’t be a problem.”

                “It’s just not a topic a lot of people like to discuss.”

                “Ask,” Len replied, taking a bite of his roll.

                “Just, with a name like ‘Snart’, I always kinda thought…that well…you’d be…Jewish,” Barry cringed slightly at the last. Religion wasn’t a topic he ever thought about. “But you know, you never seem to baulk at the -.” He pointed to the bacon in Len’s roll.

                Len grinned, and finished chewing before he answered. “I believe dad was raised Jewish, but like so much else in his life, it went by the wayside as his own warped moral compass took over. Lisa and I have never been raised with any sort of faith.”

                “Your mom didn’t have any either?” Barry asked, then paused, wondering if that was safe to ask. He’d never heard Len mention his mother. From the little Barry had seen in his criminal files it seemed she’d disappeared from their lives quite early.

                Len took another bite, again waiting until he was finished before he spoke again, his expression thoughtful, as if he was considering his answer carefully. “She was an atheist. She believed only in the evil that men do to one another and had the faith that they could be good to one another as well.”

                “She sounds cool,” Barry replied.

                Len shrugged. “Wouldn’t remember. She left when I was eleven. Lisa was only three.”

                Barry grimaced, hearing the pain in his voice he was clearly trying to hide. He knew Len had to remember. He’d lost his own mother at eleven and he had a huge number of memories of her. For Barry they were all good, only painful because the ability to make more was taken from him.

                “What was she like?” he asked.

                Len shrugged again, looking down at his food, shifting in his chair in a way Barry had learned was a sign he was uncomfortable.

                He went back to his food and there was silence for a long time. He wanted to change the subject to something else, and he awkwardly kept his eyes down so as not to make Len feel more uneasy. “So, ah, I was thinking it would be quicker if I ran us both to the Labs this morning. It’d also get us out of there faster as well, you know, less chance of Cisco finding us.”

                “Sounds good,” Len replied. “But maybe we should wait until the food settles a bit. The last time you sped me somewhere I was decidedly queasy afterwards.”

                Barry grinned. “Okay. I’ll take it slow. Lessen the motion sickness for you.”

                “That would be appreciated.”

               

                It was just after eight thirty when they arrived at the labs, Len looking much less green in the gills this time as Barry lowered him to the floor outside the Time Vault.

                “You okay?” Barry asked.

                “The static tingles,” Len replied with a tight grin and a head tilt that told Barry he was fine.

                “I’ve never had anyone say that before.”

                “I’m kinda unique.”

                Barry smiled, running a hand lightly down his arm. “Yeah, you are.”

                Len winked and then looked expectantly at the wall. Barry was still smiling as he lifted a hand to to the section of wall that opened the hidden door, revealing the hidden room.

                The lights came on as they entered. He took a few steps to the far end of the room to where the odd white pillar that was the terminal into Gideon’s files rose from the floor. He pressed his hand over the round indent in the surface. In the past this action had brought up the newspaper clipping from the future, but now for some unknown reason, it presented a full wall of various video images that Reverse Flash had collected when he watched Barry’s life, so he could manipulate it so completely. Barry remembered seeing it once, that night when Thawne had worked out that Team Flash finally knew who he was. He’d been so angry, so devastated at the images he’d only just processed Iris’ inclusion in them and determined to get her to safety. Why had this come up instead of the newspaper? He had no idea how it worked, the AI to computer relationship, that he was supposed to write in the future.

As it was he now took the time to look at the videos in detail, realising there wasn’t a thing about Barry that Thawne hadn’t known about his life and the life of everyone he held dear. There was Barry, making out with Linda Park at Joe’s house. There he was declaring his love to Iris for a second time at Jitters. Iris at work with Mason Bridge. Iris in bed with Eddie. His fingers clenched on the top of the pillar, outraged at the invasion of her privacy, of all their privacies. The wall of images changed to the next set of files, these all about the team. Them discussing Joe and Cisco’s trip to Star City to look at Wells’ accident scene. The team inside the Reverse Flash trap, Thawne having watched them the whole time they were talking about getting him to confess. Had it changed because he’d move his fingers? He flexed them again and the next wall of images came up. It was all of Barry in his lab. Conducting analysis, writing reports. Barry and Joe telling Cisco and Caitlin about their suspicions of Wells. All of them looking at the remains of the real Wells’ body. And there in the bottom corner was the image of Barry pulling on the chains. He tapped his finger on the pillar in approximately the same place as the image on the wall and the whole wall became filled with the video.

Barry watched himself moving on the screen, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of being there again. He really hadn’t thought about that night. Nine months in a coma and then suddenly being The Flash had distracted him from the memories and even the ideas of what had happened to him. He remembered the aggravation of not being able to confess his feelings for Iris again. He remembered fully the humiliation of not being able to stop the mugger that stole her laptop. The utter disappointment of not being there to see the Particle Accelerator turn on. His growing alarm as the news reports said something was going wrong. His horror as he watched the explosion ripping apart the sky from his lab window. He remembered his angry frustration at somehow the skylight in his lab had been opened and now the rain from the storm was coming through. The image on the screen showed him with his hands on the chains now. Fuck, it was like watching it and being there all at the same time. The chains had been so cold and wet in his hands. They were difficult to move, stiff from lack of use. He looked at the puddle on the floor, pissed that he was going to have to mop it up. Then that strange overwhelming feeling of something bad about to happen. The sense of impending doom. Then all the liquids in the beakers on his shelves rising and twisting as they had in his bedroom the night of his mom’s murder. 

His heartrate ratcheted up, as did his breathing, watching the moment approach. Everything slowed down, and he knew he’d gone into hyerspeed mode without even thinking about it. The video continued to play out in slow motion. He looked up to cold raindrops hitting his face, the glass above him shattered. He saw it, the lightning, slicing down towards him, arcing through the air like it was specifically seeking him out. It was bright, too bright for the camera and the device overloaded, the video image becoming nothing more than white static. Barry’s chest, back and arm exploded in phantom pain, and he collapsed, screaming and writhing on the ground, the memory taking over his senses as his vision turned white.

Someone was calling his name, but his ears were ringing with pain and sound, overloaded the same as the camera. His hands were on something hard and cold – the floor? He was barely able to take a breath with the pain shooting through him, his blood hammering in his veins faster and faster until he was sure he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Barry!” The voice cut through the pain. Len’s stern Cold voice, snapping harshly in his ears. “Barry calm down, it’s only a memory.”

Hands were on him then, forcing him into a sitting position. “You have to breathe, Barry. Come on, breathe, slowly…slowly.”

“Len,” he wheezed out, the pain shooting through him suddenly dissipating.

“I’m here, kid,” the thief said quietly, a hand flat on his back, rubbing slow circles.

Barry’s vision slowly cleared, the room coming back into focus, his heartbeat slowing. Len was sitting next to him on the floor, his thief watching him with concern. He reached out to grab his forearm, quickly running his hand up to his shoulder and clawing at Len’s back, pulling himself in tight against the criminal. Len responded by wrapping Barry in his arms, holding him close.

“You’re okay,” Len was whispering in his ear. “It was over a long time ago. You’re okay.”

“All I remembered feeling was a whole mass of energy surging through my body and then I woke up nine months later.” Barry said, burying his face into Len’s neck. “I never knew…never remembered…until now, seeing it like that,” he murmured, feeling his breath coming faster again. “Fuck, it hurt so much.”

“I can imagine,” Len replied with rueful huff, one hand beginning to stroke up and down Barry’s back. The sensation was so familiar it comforted and grounded him, and he relaxed into his thief. “You’re okay, Barry.”

Barry smiled slightly into his neck. Len sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than Barry. He realised he’d scared the criminal. Not an easy feat, Barry knew. He pulled back a little, looking into Len’s concerned blue eyes and placed a hand to his cheek. “Yeah, I’m okay now. Thanks.” He rested their foreheads together. “But that is definitely going to cause nightmares.”

Len didn’t say anymore, just holding him tightly in silence for a good five minutes, as if he’d been worried Barry was in real pain.

“So, where’s this newspaper?” he asked eventually.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Barry muttered, suddenly remembering why they were there in the first place.

They stood up and Barry went back to the pillar but was unable to make the newspaper come up, no matter how much he tapped and flicked the pillar. In the end he sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Gideon, can you show me the newspaper headline, please?”

“Of course, Barry Allen,” the female voice responded in a slightly upbeat tone of voice, and the front page of the newspaper filled the wall.

Len lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Who’s that?”

The disembodied head of the neutral faced AI interface appeared. “Good morning, Leonard Snart, I am Gideon.”

“How’s it know my name?” Len demanded.

“Ah, I have no idea,” Barry asked. “Gideon -?”

“Leonard Snart, also known as Captain Cold. One-time master thief of Central City. Founder and owner of -.”

“Okay, that’s enough, Gideon,” Barry cut her off, shrugging at Len’s disappointed expression. “Do you really want all the surprises taken away?”

Len tilted his head, considering. “I guess not.” He turned his attention to the wall, his expression becoming thoughtful and concerned again as he read through the article. “So, you get help from Green Arrow, The Atom and Hawkgirl. I’m taking it you meet them in the future.”

“Ah, I already know all of them,” Barry replied. “Arrow and I are actually good friends. The Atom is a genius, super nice guy and Hawkgirl, well, we helped her out with a big problem she and her soulmate were having earlier this year. She’s cool too.” He shook his head with a smile at the Len’s expectant expression. “Not my secrets to tell. But if we stay together I’m sure you’ll find out eventually.”

Len turned his attention back to the article with a disgruntled huff. “So, red skies. Any idea?”

Barry shook his head. “Must have had something to do with whatever we go after Reverse Flash about. But there are no details here.”

He looked at the paper again, his eyes drawn to the by-line. He frowned slightly at the name that was now displayed there. It now read, simply ‘Iris West’. He wasn’t concerned it no longer read ‘Iris West-Allen’, in fact he’d been hoping it wouldn’t, but he was a little worried it didn’t read ‘Iris West-Thawne’. She’d made the decision to hyphenate her name when she got married, although no articles had been published under her name since she’d returned from honeymoon, so Barry didn’t know what decision she’d made when it came to her career. 

“And you go missing afterwards,” Len muttered with a creased brow, breaking through Barry’s thoughts. “Gideon,” he said then. “Is there another page of this newspaper?” 

“And you go missing afterwards,” he muttered with a creased brow. “Gideon,” he said then. “Is there another page of this newspaper?”

“I’m afraid this is the only page I have available, mister Snart.”

“All this future tech and you only hold one page?”

“In my original home I have many thousand exabytes of storage available to me, but Mr Thawne was unable to carry all of it into the past with him, choosing only selected pieces he thought would be needed. I am limited by what my current databanks hold.” She managed to sound a little offended.

Barry smiled. “Thank you, Gideon.”

“You’re welcome, Barry Allen.”

Len was gazing around the room in thought, his eyes falling back on the pillar after a few moments. Barry knew what he was thinking but thought it was probably better to not push things too much.

“Come on,” he said. “That’s all she has. Let’s go.”

Len looked disappointed and also a little confused. He was probably wondering why Barry wasn’t more interested in knowing everything the AI knew. But the last week had been too overwhelming for Barry. He’d had too much of the future and the past and what could or should or might happen. He honestly just wanted to be happy in the moments he had now.

He reached out to take his thief’s hand, pulling him away from the pillar and the image on the wall. “We have more important things to do, right now.”

“What’s more important than -?”

Barry slid his hands around the back of his neck and kissed him, drawing him in tight. In that moment he just wanted to become lost in Len, in the smell of his aftershave, the taste of his tongue, the soft velvet of his buzz cut under his fingers. Len seemed to get what he wanted, relaxing into the young man, wrapping arms around his waist, strong confident hands moving over his back, squeezing his butt and gripping his hips. They kissed and kissed for long minutes, Barry letting out contented little moans as they melded together. When they finally came up for air Len was smirking at him.

“Let’s get out of here before Ramon shows up.”

Barry nodded with a sly smile of his own. “Ready?”

“Take me away, Scarlet.”

They were back inside the safehouse soon enough, Len giving a shudder as Barry put him down but kept his hands on him.

“You alright?”

Len nodded, his gaze on the closed door. “That phasing feels weird, like I was passing through wet concrete.”

Barry grinned. “You get used to it.”

Len turned to look at him then, drawing him loosely into his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good now. It’s nice to have you to talk to about things.”

“Why me?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. “You don’t talk to West or Ramon about these things?”

“Sometimes,” Barry conceded. “But when they’ve been there to witness it – to be affected by it, it kind of makes it pointless in some ways. When I have to put everything together in a coherent form for someone else, it’s like I get to work through it. As I make you understand, I get a better understanding of it myself.”

“You can always talk to me, Scarlet.”

Barry smiled gently, bringing their foreheads together. “You can talk to me too. I know you like to play things close to the chest but if there’s ever anything you want to talk through, or just have an angry rant about, you know I’ll always listen.”

The look of gratitude that flashed briefly across Len’s face was replaced by a soft smile. “I know.”

“’Cause at the moment I really feel like I’m just burdening you with my shit every week.” He really had started to consider that maybe he was being too open with Len, telling him way more information than he needed at times.

“You’re not a burden, Barry,” Len told him, pulling him in tight. “You’re the opposite.”

Barry relaxed against Len’s chest, humming softly as their lips merged together. Not long after they were back in the bedroom again, with Barry once again living in the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Len gets an offer he can't refuse and decides to expand The Rogues. Barry gets a questioning from his family about where he's been disappearing too these last few weeks.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry's family begin to ask questions about where he disappears to on the weekends and Len gets a job offer he finds too enticing to refuse, but it does mean expanding the Rogues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, some new story line and not a re-hash of existing episodes! Also, if you haven't seen "To Catch a Thief" with Cary Grant and Grace Kelly, go watch it, its lots of fun.

                When Barry returned home late on Tuesday evening, exhausted from another day at work and then Flash patrol, he was surprised to find Iris sitting in the living room with Joe. They turned around when he closed the door behind him, the expressions on their faces somehow expectant and he knew there was an awkward conversation about to happen.

He grimaced, coming down the steps into the living room. “So, what have I done?”

Iris gave him an incredulous expression.  “You haven’t done anything. We’re just worried about you.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Worried about what?”

“Barry, you’ve never been one to keep secrets,” Joe said. “Hell, you’re one of the worst at keeping secrets I’ve ever met. We’re just…concerned…that this thing that’s keeping you out every weekend is something that’s worrying you and we don’t want you to suddenly think we’re going to judge or that you can’t talk to us about it.”

“When have I ever _not_ talked to you guys about anything?”  Barry demanded, knowing well the outrage that would be Joe’s judgement if he found out about Len. “If there was something wrong I’d tell you.”

“Then why not tell us about this?” Joe asked, sounding confused and a bit hurt.  “I mean, you come back with a huge smile every Sunday.  You have to have had a good time.”

“I do,” Barry admitted, the tiniest uplift to his lips as he thought about everything he and Len had done this past weekend.

“Then what’s the big secret?” Joe demanded.  “You got something good going on, tell us.”

Barry ran both hands over his face and turned around slowly, wondering how to explain this without actually explaining anything.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “You both know how crazy my life is.  You know everything that goes on, all the CCPD, The Flash, metahumans, alternate Earths, Green Arrows, the whole package, yeah? I don’t hold any of that back do I?”

They both nodded, looking uncertain where he was going with this.

“Okay, well I cannot tell you about this,” he declared.

“Barry, please,” Iris said, rising and coming to take his hands. “This is clearly important to you, but you gotta give us something.  If you don’t we’re only going to worry about it more.”

Barry sighed, pulling away from her and wrapping his arms around his chest, placing his hands in his armpits. Then he nodded a few times, trying to get his thoughts together. “Alright. I see someone on the weekends.”

“Who?” Joe demanded.

Barry shook his head.  “I can’t tell you. That’s between me and them.”

“What’s so bad about this woman you don’t want us to know who she is?”

Barry sighed again, rubbing hands over his face again.  “They’re not bad.”  _Not totally_. “But I’m sick of my love life being another point of craziness.  I started going out with Patty, I found myself lying to her _all the time_ , and all I had were nightmares about Zoom killing her.  Hell, since he broke my back I’ve had nothing but nightmares about him killing all of you.” He squeezed his eyes shut a moment, trying to get rid of the images before his eyes.  “But if he doesn’t know about this person he can’t hurt them.  If no one knows nobody, not criminals, not metas, not anyone, can hurt them because of their connection to me.”

“Okay, we get that,” Iris said.  He could see she was trying to be understanding but she was still looking hurt, like he didn’t trust her. “But does she understand all this?”

“What? Do they know I’m The Flash?”

“Yeah,” she said. “And everything else you’re worried about?”

He nodded. “Yeah, they know everything.”

“And she’s just happy to have some part time relationship that’s a complete secret?” Joe demanded.

Barry looked at the ground. “They have a crazy life too,” he replied, quietly.  “It works for both of us.”

Joe threw his hands up, collapsing back into the lounge cushions.  “What the hell can either of you get out of that?”

“We get peace!”  Barry exclaimed, shaking his hands in frustration. “From Friday to Sunday I don’t have nightmares, Joe.  From Friday to Sunday I don’t worry if Reverse Flash is going to turn up again. I don’t think about the fact I’m not fast enough to stop Zoom or that everyone in this city saw me not be strong enough to protect them. For a few hours I get freedom from all that.”

His voice had risen in volume and distress as he talked, he could feel his eyes burning, ready to brim over with the anger and frustration he was feeling.

“Please,” he begged. “Please just let this go. For the first time in a long time I feel like I have something no one’s going to take away from me. And it’s good! It’s better than I ever thought something could be. Please.”

Iris looked at Joe, who shook his head incredulously but then nodded silently letting Barry know he understood.

Iris wrapped her arms around Barry, who reluctantly held her back. He realised he didn’t want to hold her any longer than he needed to.  Gone were the days when he would have tried to keep her in his arms just a few seconds longer. It seemed Len had cured him of his last residual feelings for Iris.  In that moment he could finally let her go, let her just be his sister. He smiled at her as she stepped back.

“Okay, we won’t pry anymore,” she assured him.  “But if things go bad you have to let us help, yeah?”

Barry gave a reluctant huff and a nod.  “Yeah, yeah of course.”

She smiled, the smile that used to catch the breath in his throat but now just made him smile back. He was definitely getting over her and it lightened his heart to know Len was helping him without even knowing it.

 

Len sat back in the booth in a dark corner of Saints and Sinners, letting the scotch burn the back of his throat. Tuesday night and the place was quiet. The busy nights tended to be Friday and the weekend, so it provided a quiet and relaxed atmosphere for him to soak up. He was here by himself tonight. Lisa was out with Cisco again and Mick was grumping around the safehouse as if he was looking to set something on fire. Normally Len would have brought him out when he got like that but tonight he just decided to find some quiet by himself.  He needed the space to be able to think anyway.

He’d been secretly seeing Barry for over a month now, and he had to admit the kid was making him happier than he’d felt in his life.  Barry’s inherent goodness and his acceptance of all Len was, made him feel like the luckiest criminal in the world.  Without even discussing it they’d fallen into an easy routine, meeting at the safehouse each Friday night and spending the weekend together until Sunday evening, when Barry returned to the weekly West family dinner.

He failed to see what Barry saw in him, but right now he wasn’t questioning it. Those stolen hours seemed to be giving Barry a reprieve from everything else that was weighing on him and Len was happy to help lift that weight if it meant he got to hold that incredible body close and hear Barry make the most exquisite noises as Len ruined him again and again. But it was more than that now. To start with Len had been satisfied with the incredible sex. The kid was insatiable and his meta body was always ready to go again. Len smiled at how delightfully shattered the speedster could leave him by the end of a weekend.

But during the last couple of days, he found himself reminiscing more about the times between bouts of sex rather than the act itself.  They’d actually spent this last Sunday afternoon curled up on the sofa, watching Netflix and discussing the different science fiction movies available and which they liked best. Barry had nestled against his neck and they’d munched popcorn and chocolate while quoting lines and making fun of the worst parts of the movies.  It had been pleasantly domestic and comfortable.  Len had never had anything like that with anyone, other than Lisa. It felt strangely normal and normal was not something Len had ever done.

What was even more amazing to Len was how well they talked. Barry’s optimistic outlook and willingness to talk about himself with the slightest encouragement had Len at ease almost instantly and he found himself willing to open up and talk about things he would never have normally discussed. It was helped by Barry’s attitude. The kid was eager to ask Len all manner of questions about his childhood and criminal career, interested to find out what made Len the man he was, but he never pushed. If he asked a question that Len found too difficult or painful, Barry would just smile and nod and move on to the next topic, never demanding the thief explain himself. It gave Len the confidence to answer when he could, say no when he couldn’t, but never feel like he had to close down or cut Barry off. It meant there were never any awkward silences or difficult conversations. Barry was making it so easy for him, letting him talk in his own time, without judgement and he was grateful in a way he’d never felt towards anyone, except maybe Mick.

His phone dinged.

_Joe and Iris have been asking questions_

_You tell them?_

_Just that I’m seeing someone. Told them to back off otherwise._

_Will they?_

_Said they would_

_OK_

Len considered that. They might say they would but did that actually mean anything?  These were the people who’d taken Barry in and treated him like family since he was eleven. Len knew how protective Joe West could be of the kid. Add to that the fact they were a police detective and an investigative journalist, and it made for a problematic combination. Barry trusted them, so of course he’d take them at their word. Len couldn’t.  He’d have to put some thought into it, but he was sure there was a way he could truly get them to back off and leave Barry’s secret alone without exposing himself in the process.

Years of alertness to threats made sure he was aware of the presence of the man well before he spoke. He was standing at the end of the booth, behind Len, just out of his eyeline.

Len lazily took another sip of scotch.  “If you have something to say, get on with it.”

“Mr. Snart?”  he said then, moving to stand where Len could see him.

Len looked him up and down. He was dressed in dark jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a black leather jacket. He was trying to blend in but was failing miserably, given that every item had a designer cut.  His black hair was trimmed in too neat a style for this bar and the hands that held the glass were perfectly manicured.

“Who’s asking?” Len demanded.

The man slid into the booth opposite him without being asked.  Len cocked an eyebrow. Presumptive prick. “My name is Geoffrey Goddard. I was hoping to take a small amount of your time.” His accent was undeniably British but the tone was pleasant, even friendly. He was in his mid-thirties, square jawed, with penetrating deep brown eyes that observed Len with polite curiosity.

“My time is valuable,” Len said, leaning back in his seat. He looked at his watch. “You have five minutes.”

“More than enough for the offer I want to make,” Goddard replied, relaxing back. “Mister Snart I represent Camello Securities. I’m sure you’re aware of the company.”

Len did in fact know about them.  “Of course. They’re a private hold-all for the rich and richer of Central City and beyond. If you have something you want held and are too frightened to leave it in a bank vault they’re the people you call to stash it away. They’ve been on my list of targets for a long time,” Len admitted.  “I just haven’t got around to ripping them off yet.”

Goddard smiled, as if he liked Len, and not at all fazed by his admission to want to rob the place. “Well then, you’ll be disappointed to know that someone beat you to it.”

Len raised an eyebrow trying to look mildly interested rather than shocked. As targets went it was the biggest thing you could take on in Central. Security was top of the range and the building itself was like a war bunker.  “Hadn’t heard,” Len told him, keeping his drawl in place with difficulty.

“And you won’t,” Goddard replied.  “As you can understand it would be incredibly bad publicity for the company if anyone was to know there was a security breach. No police have been called. And they won’t be.”

Len nodded in understanding. No point being a security company if you couldn’t secure anything. “What’s this got to do with me?”

“The company wishes two things.  First, the knowledge of how the items were taken and by who, and second the return of the items. Hopefully within a short time period.”

Len chuckled, incredulous. “You want me to investigate the theft?”

“Who better than a thief to catch a thief,” Goddard replied, taking a drink from his glass.

“You’ve been watching too much Hitchcock,” Len snorted.

“Oh, you’re hardly Cary Grant mister Snart,” Goddard said with another smile. “But who better than the best thief in Central City to find out who did this?  Completely off the books of course.”

“What’s in it for me?” Len asked then.

“Fee is one million dollars,” Goddard told him. “Two hundred thousand up front, the rest when the goods are returned.”

Len swirled his glass around, trying to look bored as the figures made his heart and brain jump.  “That’s a significant sum, Geoff.”

“A measure of just how seriously the company takes this matter, that’s all. Our reputation and future are at stake. If clients thought they could no longer trust us, the consequences would be devastating. It also represents a tiny portion of the insurance payout required if the items weren’t returned.”

“How long do I have to think about it?” he asked, plans already beginning to form in his head.

“I can give you two days,” Goddard replied.  His hand went into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card. He slid it across the table.  “Call me when you’ve made a decision.”

Len nodded, taking the card silently.

“Have a lovely evening, mister Snart,” Goddard told him with another friendly smile, sliding out of the booth and leaving without a look back.

Len sat there for a long time, a whole range of new thoughts going through his head, the card twirling round in his fingers. The drink was forgotten, the bar was forgotten.  The world dropped away as Len’s head spun with possibilities.  Something that had been nagging at the back of his mind suddenly might have a solution.

He pulled out his phone.

_Need to see you. Now_

_Safehouse?_

_S & S_

_Be there in a flash_

_Very funny_

_ikr_

Len had just retrieved the kid a beer from the bar when he arrived.  Barry looked worried as he searched the joint for Len but smiled brightly as he slid into the booth next to him, one hand readily resting on his thigh.

“What’s so urgent?” Barry asked, concern in his voice.

Len pursed his lips and handed Barry the card.  “I’ve been offered a job.” He quickly told Barry what Goddard had said.

“Wow,” Barry breathed, still looking at the card, his brow furrowed. “You sure it was legit?”

Len nodded. “Seemed so.  But if they want it kept out of the public, any investigation is going to require some less than legal efforts. Probably why they chose me. They knew I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“What are you thinking?” Barry asked. His expression was no longer concerned, just curious.

Len shrugged. “It’s a lot of money for something that’s basically not illegal. But I can’t do it by myself.”

Barry looked at him in surprise.  “Len, I can’t help with this,” he said. “If you have to do anything illegal to get results I can’t be involved. My job at CCPD would be the least of my problems if -.”

“I wasn’t thinking of you, Scarlet,” Len told him, with a small smile.  “We’re trying to keep our lives separate, remember? I was wondering if you had a recommendation for a technical advisor. Someone who isn’t Ramon?”

Barry sat back, looking down at his beer, his lips pursed as he thought about that. Len wanted to reach out and smooth the deep dent between his eyebrows as he began to look troubled. His expression turned thoughtful, then troubled again, then calculating, then finally settled into something resolved. Len smirked at the ever-changing view. The kid had no poker face at all. It was endearing but at the same time unfortunate that the young hero could be read so easily.

After a while Barry took out his phone, typing something in. Len’s phone dinged. He looked at the name that had appeared on a text.  “Who’s this?”

“Someone who has all the knowledge and skills you need,” Barry told him with a smile. “But he’s an arrogant prick.  He doesn’t need the money, so you’ll have to entice him with something else,” Barry frowned suddenly. “But that completely excludes you – you’re mine.”

Len chuckled, fighting the urge to pull the speedster in and kiss him breathless. “Jealous, Scarlet?”

“Yes,” Barry replied, the hand on Len’s thigh squeezed and started to head north. Len grabbed it and lifted it away, drawing it to his lips, kissing each of the fingertips.

Barry took a sharp inbreath, blushing pink at the open contact here in a public place. God, he was so beautifully innocent. What the hell was he doing with Len?

“So, you’ll take the job?”  Barry asked then, squeezing their interlaced fingers under the table.

“I’ve got two days to do some background research,” Len told him. “I’ll make a decision when I know more.”

Barry nodded, his eyes darkening. “So, what do you have planned for the rest of the evening?”

 “Don’t tempt me, Scarlet. I have work to do now.  I’ll see you again on Friday, tell you what’s happening.”

Barry nodded but looked so disappointed Len had to laugh.

Barry’s phone began to ring. He looked at the caller ID and grimaced.  “Yeah, Cisco?” He listened for a moment. “Okay, be right there.” He hung up and sighed, giving Len another disappointed look.  “Duty calls.”

Len nodded. “Stay safe, Barry.”

He smiled brilliantly again and departed quickly. Len watched his arse the whole way, wishing now he’d pulled the kid into the bathroom for a quick blowjob before he left. It was only then it truly registered with him what Barry had said: _“You’re mine.”_ As clear a declaration of commitment and possession as a person could make.  Len’s chest tightened in a pleasant way. Whatever this thing was that he and Barry had, the kid was quickly moving beyond just sex, as Len himself was. What was this thing? Was it a relationship? He wasn’t sure he wanted to define it yet. There was the possibility of any such definition putting boundaries on what was currently a pleasantly loose and free experience. He had more pressing matters to think about now though, so he got up, paid out his tab and headed back to the safehouse. He had a lot of work to do, starting with who this ‘Hartley Rathaway’ was and what he had to offer Len in this new venture.

 

Iris closed the door to home and let out a tired sigh, dropping her keys in the bowl and kicking her shoes under the table by the door.

“Hey,” Eddie called, looking up from his place on the sofa, flicking off the television so he could give her his whole attention. “How did it go?”

She shrugged, coming to sit down beside him. “Barry admitted he’s seeing someone but refused to say who.”

“That’s not like him,” Eddie said, looking confused.

“Apparently, he’s sick of the people he loves being in danger from villains like Zoom and he thinks that if no one knows then no one can hurt them.”

Eddie frowned, thinking it through. “I guess that’s valid, but if we know there _is_ someone then doesn’t that open it up to someone finding out about them anyway?”

“Barry has sworn us all to secrecy. No talking about it, no asking about it. It’s now a taboo subject.”

“Wow,” he said, frowning. “That’s a little extreme.”

“For Barry, yeah,” she said with an emphatic nod. “Which is an indication of just how important he thinks this secret is.”

“And clearly how important this woman is to him,” Eddie added.

“Yeah.”

“So, we just live with the fact the city’s superhero vigilante disappears on the weekends?”

“I guess so,” she said with a resigned shrug.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Are you really going to leave this alone?”

Iris grinned, pleased her new husband knew her that well. “For the moment, I am. He wants some space, I think we should give it to him. Besides,” she added, wrapping her arms around Eddie’s neck and drawing him towards her. “I have something else to hold my attention during my down hours.”

“That you do, Mrs West-Thawne,” Eddie murmured with a smile, closing the distance between them.

 

Len sipped at his coffee. He was sitting in an expensive café in an upmarket part of Windsor Heights, watching a lone Hartley Rathaway drink his latte and eat a chocolate muffin as he worked furiously with a pen on a large pad in front of him. From his position at the back of the shop Len couldn’t make out exactly what he was writing but it was clear from the way the pen made broad strokes across the page before returning to writing that he was drawing some sort of diagram and making notes on it. Kid had been there for at least an hour and was on his third cup and second muffin.  He was about the same age as Barry and the other boffins at STAR Labs, with a pair of Harry Potter glasses making him look even younger. Since he was clearly alone Len made the decision now was the time to approach him.

He took up the coffee cup and the folder he brought with him, sliding into the empty seat opposite the kid.  He was clearly in a world of his own because Len’s presence caused him to jump violently.

“What -?” He looked at Len for a moment, his expression confused before some sort of realisation dawned. “You!”

Len raised an eyebrow. “Me,” he drawled slowly, wondering how the kid might know him. Had Barry warned him Len was coming?

“You’re -,” Hartley’s gaze flickered all around as if looking for help.

“Calm down, kid,” Len said. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Hartley opened his mouth to say something but then just as quickly his face settled into something shrewd and thoughtful. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“No, if you wanted to hurt me I’d be an icicle by now,” Hartley said then. “So, what does Captain Cold want with me?”

“Nice to know you’ve heard of me,” Len told him with a smile.

Rathaway scoffed.  “Yeah well, threatening my parents and stealing their painting was bound to get some attention. Again, what do you want?”

“I have a proposition,” Len replied, holding up a hand to stop the kid from interrupting him.  He handed over the folder, containing all the information he’d been able to garner about Camello Securities and the theft they wanted kept secret.

“We have a…mutual acquaintance…who has recommended you as someone with the skill set I need to help with this.”

Rathaway took the folder slowly, looking uncertain. “Someone who wants to remain nameless, I’m guessing.”

“It’s complicated,” Len replied, with a vague wave of his hand.

“Yeah, everything with The Flash is,” Rathaway answered opening the file.

“What?” Len asked, trying to keep his face impassive.

Rathaway huffed.  “Please, I’m not stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. The two of you have been dancing around each other since that Khandaq diamond thing. I’ve seen the news footage of you two fighting. All the puns and taunting. The unresolved sexual tension is disgusting. The two of you should just screw and get it over with.”

He was looking at the file with interest now, so Len allowed himself a brief grin at that.

“So, the great thief had been asked to do something quasi legitimate by the look of this file.  Who would recommend me to you? It would have to be someone who knows I can do what you need. Also, that I’d be willing to consider a project that wasn’t squeaky clean.  STAR Labs are the only people who have that sort of information on me. It’s The Flash.”

His eyes were scanning the documents rapidly now. Len let him read for a few minutes, sipping his coffee and considering the kid.  Barry was right he was an arrogant prick and even smarter than Barry had let on. Rathaway got to the end of the file and closed the cover.

“So, you need me to analyse their security data for any anomalies and investigate the structure of the building to see if it’s been compromised in any way,” Rathaway surmised.

“In a word,” Len replied. “Might also involve some other…subtler work.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“The fun of something different,” Len told him.  “And the knowledge you’ll be helping protect some of mommy and daddy’s prized possessions.”

Rathaway scowled. “What no money?”

“Is that what you want?” Len asked.  Barry had told him not to bother leading with that.

“Let’s just say that coming out to my parents as gay hasn’t done any good for my trust fund,” Rathaway admitted easily.  “I’m only allowed back for dinner once a month as they get used to the idea, but they’ve still effectively cut me off until I can prove my preferences won’t cause them any embarrassment.”

_Ouch._ “A hundred thousand,” he said, quickly. “Twenty now, the rest when we get the stuff back.”

“Done,” Rathaway said without hesitation.  He tore a page from his notepad and began to write furiously. “This is what I’ll need to start with.  I’ll give you an updated equipment list as we go along. I’ll need a lab space for working. You realise you’re going to need a larger team than just me?”

“I have that in hand,” Len told him.

He nodded continuing to write.  When he was finished he put the page inside the file and handed it back to Len. “When will I hear from you?”

“In the next couple of days,” Len replied, watching the kid closely.  “Money is really all you want from this?”

Rathaway looked at him, again that shrewd, penetrating stare.  “Trying to stand up to Harrison Wells and let him know I knew the particle accelerator could explode, resulted in him blacklisting me with every other reputable lab and scientific organisation in the country. No one will hire me for real science anymore. If things don’t work out with my parents, I’ll be cut off completely and I need to keep my options open. An option that will stick it to them if I need to will be agreeable. And you were correct. The project looks like enough of a challenge that I’ll be engaged. Win, win.”

Len nodded with a smile. Yeah, kid looked vindictive enough to want to piss off his parents. That nature might be a help or a hinderance, but the kid was certainly what he needed for this.  As he wandered back to his motorcycle he looked over the list of rather pricey equipment the kid had requested.  He knew what most of it was but there were a few items he’d have to ask Barry about. Rathaway had also put his email and phone number at the bottom of the page along with a –. Len grinned, that was funny in more ways than one. Yeah, he was definitely showing Barry this list.

 

It was ten thirty at night and the low-end bar in the south side of Lawrence Hills was full. Len wandered the crowded room, Lisa trailing in his wake, not at all impressed with the country music blasting from the speakers. He shivered internally at the mechanical bull in the far corner and the horned steer skulls decorating the walls. There were far too many Stetsons for his liking. Even Lisa grimaced when someone actually shouted _yea-ha_. This was the fifth bar they’d been to tonight and even though everyone seemed to know Shawna Baez name as a regular (girl certainly got around) there had been no sign of her so far. Len dearly hoped this was the place because the only two left on his list were a gay bar and a strip joint. Neither of which would normally be a problem, but his patience was beginning to wear thin with the loud music and over confident drunks to be found in these places.

Lisa went to ask at the bar while Len rested against an upright, watching a darts game. There were more than a few curious stares at his bike boots and leather jacket but a few well aimed Cold glares made sure no one questioned him. Glancing back to the bar Lisa caught his attention and motioned with her head. Len pushed off the upright and followed her into a far back corner where the music was a little lower. The wall was lined with a series of booths and there was Shawna, seated between two cowboys, taking shots with them. As the latest round of glasses was removed she gazed at the men in triumph as one collapsed with his head on the table and the other rose to move away, practically running in the direction of what Len supposed were the bathrooms.

“Impressive,” Len commented, nudging the unconscious loser to the floor so he could slide in on one side of the meta woman. Lisa quickly slid in on her other side, blocking her escape.

Shawna’s shoulders stiffened noticeably as they sat down, and she looked around in something close to panic.

“Calm down, we’re just here to talk,” Len told her.

“About what?”  she demanded. Her eyes were amazingly clear for someone who’d just drunk two men under the table.

“You owe me,” Len told her, simply. “Time to pay up.”

“How?” The panic hadn’t left her eyes, if anything it looked like she was thinking about using her powers to teleport away.

“I have a job coming up,” Len told her. “Not sure everything it’ll entail yet. But I could use your medical skills as well as your -,” he flailed a hand vaguely.  “- other abilities.”

Shawna stared at him a moment, before looking at the table. “I don’t want to do that anymore. After what Clay asked -.”

“It’s not criminal,” Len told her. “It’s a legitimate job.”

“Doing what?”  she demanded, looking slightly interested now.

“Retrieving some stolen items.”

She frowned. “Since when do you take things back, Snart?”

Len grinned. “Since I’m being paid very well to make sure it happens. How does a hundred thousand sound? Twenty now, the rest when the goods are returned.”

“A hundred?” her dark eyes widened.

It was so nice to have money to throw around, it made greasing the wheels so much easier with criminals, even part-time ones. Len placed a card on the table with his current cell number on it.

“Call me in three days. I’ll give you all the details of where we’ll be working from.”

She sighed. “Fine,” she said trying to sound reluctant, but Len could see the idea of the money was already convincing her. “Three days. And then my marker will be clear?”

“Absolutely,” Len replied with a grin.

She nodded and looked at the table again, seeming for all the world like she wanted another shot. There was a groan from the floor and the cowboy started to struggle to his feet.

“Time to go, sis,” Len said to Lisa.

They rose from the booth, Len offered Shawna one more quick smile before turning to leave. He stepped on the back of the drunk as he passed, pushing him back down on the floor. The man groaned loudly.

 

He found Roy Bivolo in a ground floor studio apartment in a low rent district near the old docks area of Leawood. It was a shabby, rundown affair, as were most of the tenants Len saw coming and going. It seemed Roy had given up his bank robbing attempts after his run-ins with The Flash and his time in the pipeline, but his artistic efforts had hardly been a success, if his current housing was any indication.

He’d knocked on the door but there was no answer, so Len had simply broken in. The lock was childishly simple and it took only moments for the internal mechanism to click into place and Len opened the door with a tight grin. Closing it behind him he found the apartment inside was sparsely furnished but neatly presented. The furniture looked like Roy had reclaimed it all from the curb and then fixed it up, painting the surfaces in bright colours, making the place look like some manic rainbow that made for a cheery and uplifting environment, if a bit too confused for Len’s tastes.

One whole end of the space had been given over to Roy’s studio and there were a large number of canvases leaned up against the wall. Len idly flipped through them. Roy wasn’t a bad artist, it just seemed his colour blindness leant his works to odd colour combinations that many people would find jarring. Also, his subject matter seemed to tend towards the dark and haunting, not the sort of thing people generally wanted to hang in their homes. There was a large battered desk that held a number of pads that Len flipped through, impressed by the quality of his black and white charcoal and pencil works. From his point of view, Roy could make a lot more money selling those than the paintings.

He’d been wandering the space for about half an hour when there was a key turning in the lock and the door opened.  Roy Bivolo slammed the door closed behind him and collapsed back against it, panting and trembling. His dark sunglasses were askew, one of the lens broken and the trench coat had one sleeve torn. It took a good two minutes before Roy became aware he wasn’t alone and when he did he stood up, stiffening in shock at the sight of Len sitting in a bright blue dining chair, watching him with curiosity.

“Afternoon, Roy,” he greeted the man with his signature drawl. “Did I come at a bad time?”

Roy straightened the damaged trench coat before noticing the sleeve and scowled, pulling it off and hanging it on the hook behind the door. Underneath he was in a pair of tattered jeans and a faded t-shirt that was covered in paint splatters.

“Yes, it is a bad time, Snart,” he snapped in reply, quickly going to the sink and pouring a glass of water that he downed with a few desperate gulps. He looked at the empty glass and frowned, then reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a bottle of cheap scotch, pouring himself a large portion.

“Something happen?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, taking a gulp of the alcohol.

Len shrugged trying to appear unconcerned at the man’s behaviour. “You owe me for saving you from Flash’s little truck jail. I’m calling in that marker.”

Bivolo huffed in disgust but flailed the glass in a wide shaking arc. “Whatever job you’re planning you don’t need me. I’m not at my best right now.”

“That, I can see,” Len replied, getting up and coming towards the man.

The artist held up his hands, looking at the ground. “Not so close. I’m not in control and I really don’t think either of us needs to see what a terrified Leonard Snart looks like.”

“Terrified?”  Len demanded. Roy’s ability was to induce anger in people, not fear.

The man took another large drink and collapsed into a lounge chair and he put his head in his hands, the glass pressed to his forehead. He was muttering swear words under his breath.

“Roy, what’s happening?” he demanded.

“Like you give a shit, Snart,” Roy snapped angrily, still looking down. “Just get out. I can’t do a job, I don’t think I can even move right now.” He held out a hand. It was trembling violently. He closed the fingers into a fist and planted it back on the chair beside him.

Len frowned, considering. He knew that Roy was hardly a hardened criminal, the man was more a tortured artist who’d decided to try and use his newfound powers to be able to fund his artistic pursuits. His reaction now was clear evidence of that.

“Roy,” he said, more gently. “What did you do?”

Bivolo huffed. “I got mugged.”

“And?”

“And all three pricks had knives,” he muttered, and Len could see the trembling in his shoulders. “They caught me in an alley off the main drag.”

“What happened?” Len asked, coming up behind him to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The man stiffened a moment before relaxing, seeming to take comfort from the contact. “I thought I was dead. They looked strung out – like they were willing to kill for the couple of bucks in my pocket. One of them punched me, broke my glasses.” He pulled off the broken lenses and threw them on the coffee table in front of him. “I’d never been that scared, actually terrified for my life. Next thing I knew, they were staring at me in terror. Two ran away, the other lunged at me with a mad look in his eyes. I ran…just ran. Once I was back in the main street I thought I’d be safe but everyone I passed started acting terrified too. It was then I noticed it – their eyes were flashing orange, not red, orange! I left a minor riot down the road.”

“Your powers are developing,” Len surmised, squeezing Roy’s shoulder again.

The man nodded, still looking at the floor. “I have no control of this Snart. I’d be a liability to any job you pull.”

Len thought for a moment. Normally he would have just cut his losses and left the man to his problems, but something stopped him.

“You’ll learn control, just as you did with the anger,” Len told him, matter-of-factly. “I may need your skills not just as a meta but as an artist.”

Bivolo lifted his head slightly but still refused to look at him. “How?” The sound of police sirens echoed down the street and he saw the man grimace.

“I’ll be able to offer you one hundred thousand. Twenty now, the rest when we get the stuff.”

“A hundred?” Bivolo gasped. “What the hell are you stealing?”

Len grinned. “Nothing. I’m helping retrieve some stuff. For some people who really want it back.”

He suddenly looked torn. It was abundantly clear the guy could use the money. “I – I don’t know. Why would you still want to take me on like this?”

Len huffed. “I can offer you a place to stay, somewhere a hell of a lot better than this dump – with space for your art. It’ll be somewhere the police won’t think to look for you. I may even have someone who can help you with your abilities.”

“Who?”

“Are you in?” Len asked, not wanting to give away too much until he got an answer.

He downed the last of the scotch and nodded. “Yeah, yeah okay, I’m in.”

Len nodded and placed a plain card with his cell number on the coffee table. “Call me in two days. I’ll have the details for you. Until then, keep your head down and out of police view.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, laying a couple of hundred on the table with the card.

Roy was staring at the money in surprise, but he finally nodded.

Len left without another word. He took a short detour down to the main drag to see what chaos Bivolo had caused, seeing police setting up a cordon around an area of the street where people were clearly still trying to act out in fear and terror. Some were cowering against shop fronts, others were shouting racist or homophobic abuse at others, the police were restraining some of the affected as they were acting out with violence. Len would have been impressed if he hadn’t known Roy had done it unintentionally. He left the crime scene and headed back to his bike, wondering why he’d bothered to take Roy on in his current state.

True, he was going to need the extra body regardless, and if he could keep Roy calm the possibility it would happen again was minimal. But there was something else. The anguish in Bivolo’s voice had pulled at a place in his heart he thought long cold and dead. That place that cared for other’s feelings. Roy was a wanted criminal through a few bad choices and something in Len was pulled towards wanting to help the man rather than see him fall further into the dark like Len himself had.

As he pulled away from the curb, moving in the opposite direction to the chaos down the street, he wondered if this was Barry’s influence. Taking Roy in to give him a new start with legitimate work was a step Barry would approve of, Len was sure. Ever since he’d been able to best his father’s criminal activities at seventeen he’d stopped caring what other people thought of him, but it was different with Barry. He wanted to make Barry proud of him, to be worthy of the gorgeous speedster who had such faith that Len could be better. The idea of losing Barry to something as simple as disappointment in him was unthinkable. Barry would certainly have been disappointed if Len had left Bivolo in that state without support, so now Len had to find a way to integrate the starving artist into his crew.

 

When Joe had come up to Barry’s lab, saying there was a crime scene to process and that he’d give his foster son a ride there, Barry hadn’t thought too much of it. They often rode together when called out, when they could both be found at the precinct at the same time. It was only when they got to the car and Eddie took the back seat, that Barry started to feel that there was something more going on. He tried not to roll his eyes, fearing a repeat of the conversation from the other night, but unable to come up with a good excuse to avoid it.

They’d stopped at the first set of traffic lights when Joe cleared his throat and Barry tried hard to hide his grimace of discomfort.

“So, what are your plans for the weekend Bear?” Joe asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

He shrugged as if the question was no big deal. “The same as the last few weekends. Time to myself.”

“But not by yourself?”

“No,” Barry replied shortly, finding his anger quickly rising.

Joe was nodding as if that was enough for him, but Barry could see the wheels turning in the detective’s head.

“So how well do you actually know this person?” he asked then, sounding mildly curious, although Barry knew this was an interrogation.

“Well enough that I want to know them better,” Barry replied, looking out the window and trying to keep his voice even.

“So, not that well then,” Joe surmised.

Barry grimaced, knowing there was no way he was going to describe how he knew Len’s worst parts, and he was longing to learn more of his best.

“So, what makes you think you can trust her? I mean, you already said they know you’re The Flash. How can you be so sure she can be trusted with that information?”

“I can’t,” Barry told him. “No more than you can, or Caitlin, or Iris. I mean, I trusted Cisco and he told Snart who I was to save Dante. I’m pretty sure it’d take something just as serious for this person to betray me.”

“But you can’t be sure.”

“Of course, I can’t,” Barry said, with a huff. “That’s what trust is, isn’t it?”

A strained silence followed, and Barry could feel Joe working himself up to his next question. “Exactly what is it you want, Joe?”

His foster father raised an eyebrow, glancing at him before back at the road. “I want to know this woman means you no harm. That you’re gonna be safe with her.”

Barry stared out the window. Len had certainly showed he couldn’t be trusted in the past but what about the future? What sort of person would Barry be to deny the man the chance to change? He had to trust Len meant what he said, that his actions were genuine. “There are no guarantees in life,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But right now, I feel completely safe.”

“Look Barry, anyone knowing you’re The Flash affects all of us,” Joe put in then, clearly trying a different tack. “It exposes all of us to -.”

“Did I always do my homework?” Barry interrupted then.

“What?” Joe asked, clearly surprised at the change of topic.

“When I was in school, did you have to force me to do my homework?”

“No, you always did it before I got home.”

“And good test results?”

“Yeah,” Joe answered slowly, sounding uncertain of where this was suddenly going.

“Did I ever hang around with anyone you didn’t like?”

“No.”

 “Did you ever catch me sneaking in or out of the house?”

“No.”

“And you know why I you never caught me?” Barry demanded, letting some of his irritation go. “Because I never did that. Because I was so damn grateful to you for taking me in, and so terrified that if I did something wrong you’d send me away. So, I always followed your strict rules and tried to be a good son.”

“Barry -,” Joe sounded unsure now.

“When I was at college did you ever get a call that I’d been caught drunk or with drugs?”

“No. But Bear -.”

“No. Because I never got involved with any of that. I kept my head in my books and my arse clean. I tried to live up to what everyone else wanted from me. You, my dad, what mom would have wanted,” he added quietly, looking down at his hands, clenched tight in this lap. “But I’m twenty-six now. If I’ve always showed such good judgement, when the hell do I get to start trusting it? As opposed to yours? You don’t hold a monopoly on knowing who’s good and who’s not, Joe.”

They’d stopped at another set of traffic lights. Joe huffed in irritation, turning to glance at Eddie, who was silent in the back seat. The blonde detective held out both hands and shook his head in a gesture that clearly said; _Don’t involve me in this!_

Joe scowled at the lack of support and turned back to Barry with a grunt. “Have you forgotten how much has changed in the city since that damn explosion? How there are people out there now that the police can’t stop without extra…special…help? You running away on weekends to god knows where puts Central at risk.”

“Bullshit,” Barry muttered, angrily.

“Excuse me?!” Joe demanded, incredulous. Barry never swore in front of Joe. When he’d been growing up, Joe hadn’t tolerated the use of such words, either by himself or Iris.

“When I got my powers, _I_ was the one who made the decision to use them to help people. You've told me time and again that I can't save everyone. But as soon as I decide to not be there to save people you think that I should be. Make up your mind Joe, ‘cause you never wanted me out there in the first place. And I'm not abandoning anyone. My phone is always on, I'm always available if there's a real meta emergency. So, I’m not there to stop a bank robbery or jewellery store heist on the weekends. How is that any different to before The Flash existed?”

“And you seriously think that you’re going to be able to keep up some part-time relationship?” Joe demanded then, his reasonable tone dropping to one of irritation. “Something that doesn’t require a full commitment from either your or _her_?”

“I remember being at the wedding, finally losing -,” he glanced guilty at Eddie. “- Patty, wondering what the hell sort of love I was ever going to find? If I’m going to be a superhero with villains using everyone I love against me, then would it be better to just be alone for the rest of my life? Then this person…became someone I _wanted_ in my life, more than I ever thought was possible and I decided if I can’t have the grand romance then maybe I can at least have something halfway.” He stared out the window again, watching all the normal people living their lives and his chest suddenly clenched. “I honestly don’t think I’m going to get the fairytale, Joe. As long as I’m The Flash, there’s never going to be white picket fences. The danger is always going to be a consideration in whoever I let myself get close too, romantic or not.”

Joe looked appalled at Barry’s statement. “Barry, you can’t give up on love just cause your life is -.”

“I’m not giving up, Joe,” he said with a shake of his head. “But I’m being realistic. What I have is more than I’ve let myself consider for a while now. It’s as good as it’s going to get for the moment. One day, maybe, there’ll be space for more but right now I’m happy with this.” He let a fond smile slip out, thinking about Len.

The GPS called out they’d reached their destination and Joe pulled the sedan to a halt in the carpark. He turned in his seat, fully facing Barry, his face dark. Barry sighed. Here came another argument.

“Bear, keeping secrets from the people in your life is no way to live. They’ll eat away at you.”

Barry huffed out angrily. “Yeah, well, you’d know all about that.”

“Barry -!” he snapped angrily.

“No, Joe, you don’t get to lecture me on secrets being dangerous and what they can do,” Barry snapped back, his voice rising loudly in the enclosed space of the car. “You think when we were fourteen Iris and I actually bought that story about you having a bad reaction to a vaccination in your right arm? We both knew you’d been shot!”

Joe stared at him in shock, his bottom lip dropping a little.

“And I was the one who sat up with Iris every night for the next month. I was the one who made sure she went to sleep, while you were still out on night shift, because she was so worried you might not come home. But we let you keep that secret because we were smart enough to know were trying to protect us.”

Joe looked down, staring at the steering wheel. “It was just a graze.”

Barry shook his head, incredulous. “As if that made any difference,” he muttered. “And don’t even get me started on Francine,” he added, wrenching open the door with a hard shove.

“Barry -.”

“You know,” he kept going, staring at Joe over the top of the car as the older detective scrambled to follow him. “I never met the woman, so I can’t say that her loss means anything near what it means to you and Iris, but I can tell you I have wondered how my life might have been different if she’d been there when I was growing up in your house.”

Joe’s mouth was still hanging open, both hands resting on the top of the car as if for support.

He opened the back door to grab his field kit, throwing the strap over his shoulder and standing up quickly. “So, I’ll decide if I feel safe, and if I’m happy, thanks. Because in the end it’s not like this is all one way, Joe. I’m just as much a secret to this person’s friends and family. And that part of the secret - that’s not your business.  That’s why it’s so important you stop trying to find out. It’ll only put more people in danger – ones you don’t know anything about! So, for fuck’s sake, just leave it the hell alone!”

Barry turned and walked towards the uniformed officers who had set up a cordon around the scene, ducking under the tape without even looking back at Joe and Eddie. He was too worked up to look at them again for the moment and was happy to have something else to take his attention, in the form of a set of broken display cases in an antique store.

 

Friday afternoon and Barry strolled into the Cortex, fingering the USB drive in his pocket. After the fight with Joe he’d done some thinking, knowing that his foster father wasn’t about to let this go any time soon. With great reluctance he’d contacted Felicity in Star City and asked her to create something for him that would hide his phone from detection, both from any police monitoring and the STAR Labs systems. She’d questioned him thoroughly, as he knew she would, and he admitted to seeing someone parttime. She’d sounded sad for him, that he seemed to be giving up on love just as Joe had assumed but he assured her it was just for now. It could always change. She’d been her usual supportive self and had supplied Barry’s phone with an anti-tracking program. She had insisted that he have a backdoor though, so his team could track him if they absolutely needed too. So, now he arrived at the Labs with the information to pass on to Cisco.

The young engineer was sitting at the Cortex work station as usual, typing away at something.

“Hey,” he greeted him with his usual smile. At that moment Caitlin came out of the med suite, poking at the tablet in her hand. She smiled in greeting.

“Hey Cisco, can you do me a favour?” he asked.

“Sure, what's up?” He swiveled around in his chair, giving Barry his full attention.

“If Joe comes to you at any time asking to locate my phone, can you say no?”

The pen that had been twirling around in his fingers stopped abruptly. “Um, why?”

“He's pushing really hard about what I do on the weekends and I think he might decide to go behind my back to find me. I'd be really grateful if you didn't help him.”

Cisco exchanged a glance with Caitlin, who was frowning in worry. “Dude, that's…I mean yeah sure, but you really want on do it that way?”

“I just want some privacy.”

“Are you sure it’s privacy?” Caitlin asked, sounding concerned. “And not something else?”

Barry slumped down into the office chair beside Cisco, running a hand over his neck, wondering how to explain it. “When I became The Flash, I was the one who came to you, to ask you to help me help others. And you’ve been fantastic about it. I couldn’t ask for a better team backing me up.”

“We’re the best, man,” Cisco agreed with a grin.

“But ever since I became The Flash, its like everyone knows where I am and what I’m doing every moment of every day.” He waved a hand towards Cisco. “As long as I have the suit, even just in my bag, you can track where I am. I live with Joe and see him at work a dozen times a day. Iris still calls me at least once a day to make sure I’m alright.” He waved at Caitlin. “I so appreciate that you want to look out for my health and safety, but you know how much I eat, when I sleep, hell, you know how often I pee each day.”

She opened her mouth to protest but then snapped her mouth shut, nodding that that was indeed true.

“I just need some downtime. When I’m not The Flash. When I can do things that don’t involve saving the city and everyone in it. And I know Joe is just trying to protect me but I’m fine. I just need some time and space that belongs solely to Barry Allen, ya know?”

“Yeah, of course, dude,” Cisco replied with a knowing smile, slapping him on the shoulder. “You do you on the weekends.”

He smiled, and looked up at Caitlin, who wore an understanding smile.

“Of course,” she said with a nod.

He held out the USB to Cisco. “I had Felicity make me an anti-tracking program for my phone, so Joe can’t find me through work or here.” Cisco took the drive in uncertain hands. “But this is a backdoor that will let you in to find me – but only if it becomes absolutely necessary, okay?”

“Life in danger, end of the world,” Cisco said with a decisive nod. “Gotcha.”

“Thanks,” he said then, more grateful than he could express that they had his back like this. “But don’t tell Joe about it, okay? I know it’s a difficult position for me to put you in but if he comes asking, please just refuse to look for me.”

Cisco grinned. “We will present a united front of non-compliance!”

Barry chuckled. “Exactly! Thanks man.” He turned to the screen of Cisco’s computer. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, just a few minor tweaks to the metahuman alert app.,” he replied.

Cisco then spent the next ten minutes explaining what he was doing, and Barry relaxed, sure now that there was at least one more way to keep his and Len’s meetings a secret.

 

By the time Friday wound down Len had secured the lease on a small two-storey warehouse just outside the docks precinct, in a small industrial area in Leawood, not too far from where he’d found Roy. He’d got Mick and Lisa up to speed.  Lisa was in of course, and Mick didn’t care as long as the money was good…and that he’d eventually get to burn something. He’d set up Rathaway’s lab at the warehouse, ordering some of the items the kid had asked for and ‘procuring’ others by different means. Some of the items were even more expensive than Len had thought, so when he rang Goddard to confirm he’d take the job he asked for three hundred thousand as a start and the man granted it after a few minutes negotiation.

When he arrived at the safehouse to meet Barry on Friday evening he felt like he’d worked a full week for the first time in a long time. He was sitting on the sofa, not surprised when the speedster simply phased through the front door at a dead run, causing a brief breeze.

He only saw Barry standing behind the sofa for a brief moment before the kid sped round, landing in his lap, arms already around his neck.

“I thought we agreed no powers unless they were absolutely necessary,” Len complained, but Barry just grinned and kissed him, slow and deep. Len couldn’t help himself, wrapping him up in his arms.  They stayed like that for a good five minutes, reacquainting themselves with each other after the week apart.

When they finally pulled apart Barry rested his forehead against Len’s.  “How did your research go? You take the job?”

“Yeah, looks good,” Len answered, his hand stroking up and down Barry’s spine gently. It had become one of his favourite ways to touch him, an automatic response to having him close. The fact Barry seemed to love it made it all the better.

“How did things go with Hartley?” he asked then, his fingers caressing the back of Len’s neck.

Len grinned. “He’s on board.”

“What’s funny?”

“He worked out it was The Flash who recommended him without much effort,” Len told him.

“Well, he is a genius,” Barry replied, kissing Len’s forehead gently.

“He also seems to think that Flash and I should relieve our, what did he call it ‘unresolved sexual tension’ by having a good screw.”

Barry sat back looking at him in shock.  He was speechless for a moment before finally bursting into laughter. Len followed him and they both laughed long over the comment.

Barry eventually let out a final huff of amusement and curled up, resting his head on Len’s shoulder even as Len continued to caress him. “I’m glad it’s working out for you so far.”

“Something I want you to look at,” Len said, gripping Barry’s waist so he didn’t fall off his lap. Len leaned forward to the coffee table, taking Rathaway’s list from the folder and handing it to Barry. “What are the ones with stars?”

Barry frowned at the list, his eyes widening as he scanned it. “Holy shit! Is this what he asked you for?”

“Most of it didn’t seem unreasonable given what we’ll have to be testing.”

“Yeah but this for instance,” he pointed to one of the starred items.  “This is the latest cutting edge - no bleeding edge mass spectrometer.  Not even STAR Labs has one of these, there are like only three in the country. You could easily use something a lot less expensive.”

Len frowned.  “Okay, I’ll have words with him.”  He watched Barry continue to scan the list, following his gaze until he was sure Barry reached the bottom.

Now it was Barry’s turn to frown.  “What?” he muttered, looking at the page as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. “Is that – is that a love heart?”

Len grinned.  “Where? I don’t see one.”

Barry stared at him with narrowed eyes and slapped him across the shoulder.  “I told you, you weren’t to be on the menu!”

“I didn’t put myself on it,” Len replied all innocence, after all, he hadn’t. “It would just seem Mr. Rathaway liked what he saw.”

“Well of course he did, who wouldn’t,” Barry exclaimed his tone genuinely angry, which gave Len pause.

“Barry, it doesn’t mean anything,” Len told him, gently taking the paper and putting it back on the table.

“Maybe not to you but it certainly meant something to Hartley.”

Len frowned, he’d thought Barry would find it funny but instead he looked like he was having a small fit of jealousy. “Well,” he said. “It’s nice to be attractive but Hartley Rathaway isn’t my type.”

Barry looked at him sideways. “Really?  How’s that?”

“He isn’t you, Scarlet,” Len told him simply, pulling him in to kiss him.  Barry resisted for a moment before melting against him.

“Good answer,” Barry muttered, starting to plant kisses down Len’s neck.

Barry was far more aggressive and demanding during sex that weekend. Not that Len minded in the slightest and made a mental note that a little jealousy was a good thing. When Len was left alone at the safehouse that Sunday evening, Barry had effectively marked his territory on every surface. Len had two huge dark marks on both sides of his neck and the inside of both wrists looked like they were bruised. Normally he wouldn’t have wanted such evidence to show, but clearly Barry needed to make sure Rathaway knew Len was taken.

He thought he was the possessive one. But then Barry had been pining over a girl who never noticed him, so it was only logical the kid wouldn’t want any competition now he had something for himself. It also provided another pleasant tightening in Len’s chest telling him Barry wanted him for more than just those few stolen hours a week. The kid expected Len wouldn’t be with anyone else when they were apart and though Len never had any intention of doing so, he was flattered he had someone who wanted him exclusively in that manner. He’d never had a relationship that asked that, and he found it strangely gratifying to be the sole desire of another person. This was the second time Barry had declared his desire for that exclusivity and Len thought it was time he gave him a reassurance it already existed.

That brought up another problem that Len had to solve, one that was going to take a number of hours he didn’t really have at the moment, but this was time sensitive.  He allowed himself two hours sleep, easily achieved given how wasted he was from Barry’s attentions. Then he packed a change of clothes and went to his bike.

 

It was an hour’s ride to the cabin in the woods but at this time of night there was little traffic once he left the city proper. The clear warm night let him order his thoughts and think about how he was going to approach the problem. It was nearing 8pm when he arrived at the cabin.  It was a quaint, neatly kept place, surrounded by the scent of pine and the whisper of breeze in the branches.  Very pretty but then Len had never been one for the outdoors.

Visitors were clearly not a regular occurrence as he’d barely turned off the engine and taken off his helmet before the outside light flicked on and the front door opened. He sauntered slowly up the front steps, helmet in hand, to stop before the man silhouetted in the doorway.

“Hello Henry,” Len greeted him.

There was a pause.  “It’s been a long time, Leonard,” Henry Allen replied, his tone even but cautious.

“Far too long,” Len agreed.

“Not many people can find me out here.”

“You know I have many skills.”

There was another pause as the man thought that through. “You on the run, Leonard?”

“Not at all,” Len admitted with a brief frown. “I’m not here for sanctuary.  I have something specific to discuss.”

The man’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “And what would that be?”

“Your son.”

That got his attention. His whole body, already tense with suspicion, stiffened.  “You here to threaten me or him?”

“Exactly the opposite,” Len assured him. “I’m here to help protect him.”

Henry’s frown deepened but he stepped back, gesturing for Len to enter.

The interior was much like the outside, quaint and simple, an easy comfort man-cave. Henry offered Len a seat on the sofa while he poured them both a drink.

“How long has it been, Leonard?” Henry asked, then.  “Has to be nearly twelve years.”

“Closer to thirteen,” Len replied, taking the glass. He noticed Henry’s gaze fall on the bruise on his wrist but the man didn’t say anything.

“How’s the chest?”

“Doesn’t worry me at all,” Len answered. “But the scar is still noticeable.”

Henry nodded as he sat at the other end of the lounge, turned slightly to the side so he could look at Len straight on. “Yeah well, prison medical suite wasn’t exactly the best place to be doing surgery.  Not my best work.”

Len smiled. “Still saved my life. The scar is worth it just for that.”

“You never told me the real reason you stopped the attack on me in the first place,” Henry said.  “You took a knife to the chest for me and wouldn’t say why.”

Len shrugged. “You were a babe in the woods. Worse than that you were a good man in a dark place. It took all of five minutes to work out you could never kill anyone. Just couldn’t let them get away with that mistake.”

Henry huffed with a slight smile. “So, what are you doing here? What’s this got to do with Barry?”

Len considered a moment.  “You know who he is.”

“That he’s The Flash? Of course,” he replied. “Also seen the two of you at each other’s throats.”

Len looked up at him then.

“I may be out of town but I still get the news up here,” Henry told him with a bigger smile.  “So, what does Captain Cold want with my son?”

“Ready for a long story?”

“It’s still early let’s hear it.”

So, Len simply laid it all out on the table, everything from their first meeting up until Len saving him at Saints & Sinners and taking him home to care for him. He didn’t hide anything, being up front about finding The Flash enticing and revelling in the challenge of taking him on during his criminal activities. He admitted to kidnapping Caitlin and Cisco. He told him about the deal in the woods where he’d agreed to not kill anymore. He also let Henry know about his growing respect for the kid, and how he’d helped Lisa and kept Len out of jail that last time.

“We went from being enemies to friends, mostly because Barry refused to give up on me. He just kept seeing good in me when I showed him nothing but the worst sides of myself.”

“Well, that’s my boy,” Henry told him with obvious pride. “Always looking for the light.”

Len nodded thoughtfully. “He’s tormented, Henry.”

Henry’s smile fell.  “Yeah, I went to see him after Zoom…hurt him.  He was, to put it mildly, shaken. But he’s Barry, he’s strong, he has friends and family who’ll support him through this.”

“It’s friends and family I’m worried about,” Len put in then.

“How so?”  Henry asked, more curious than concerned.

Len downed the last of the bourbon, letting the burn in his throat focus his thoughts. “Barry has a secret, one he wants to keep. But with his closest family being a detective and a reporter you can imagine the possibility they won’t be able to control their curiosity, especially if they thought it was in Barry’s interest. Not to mention his friends at STAR Labs with enough smarts and technology to track him down if they feel the need.”

“What do I have to do with this?”  Henry asked. “And how do you even know he has a secret?”

“I want to tell you,” Len said.  “And if you agree that it’s a good thing then you can tell them all to back off.  They’ll trust your judgement.”

Henry looked down at his glass, swirling the contents thoughtfully.  “I take it Barry doesn’t know you’re here.”

Len shook his head. “He doesn’t even know we’ve met before.”

Henry nodded.  “So, you’re the one going behind his back to try to protect him?”

“He’s only just getting over Iris and having to deal with the Wests finding a new son. I don’t want him to strain those relationships. Better I’m the one to try and find a fix rather than them blunder in and hurt him.”

“And you think Barry would be happy with you telling me his secrets?”

“I think that if there’s someone who has to know, he’d be okay with it being you.”

Henry was quiet for a long time, his expression thoughtful and at times angry. But eventually he sighed.  “Alright, tell me.  If I think it’s worth it, I’ll tell Joe and Iris to back off. But no guarantees.”

Len unzipped his motorcycle jacket, removing the high-necked leather garment exposing the deep red bruises on his neck. He pulled the neck of his Henley wide, exposing the further bruises across his shoulders.

It took Henry a few confused moments to understand what Len was showing him but when realisation dawned the man leapt out of his seat, shocked and angry but clearly speechless. If the situation had been less serious Len would have laughed at his reaction but as it was he kept his face impassive and simply watched Henry closely. The doctor paced back and forth behind the lounge, his hands clenched.  Finally, he turned back to Len his face tightly controlled but the anger still evident.

“Why Leonard?”

“These things just happen. This thing happens to be good.”

“Good?” Henry demanded, incredulous.

“It eases his torment,” Len told him, simply. “And it brings light to my darkness.”

“A darkness you could infect him with.”

“Never,” Len snapped, vehemently. “I’d never let that happen.”

“You’re so sure?!”

“Yes!” Len told him standing up and rounding to the back of the sofa so he was standing in front of the doctor. “I need him to be good. I need him to be his best self. His light is the reason I -!”

“You what?”  Henry asked, his voice gentler now, his expression speculative.

Len turned away, shaking his head. “He wants me a secret so he can keep me safe. Someone Zoom can’t threaten. I need to keep him a secret for the same reason. We both have dangerous lives but together we have peace.”

“Peace?” Henry asked then, his expression thoughtful again. “That’s all you get out of it?”

Len’s hands gripped the back of the lounge.  He’d expected to have better control of himself, but the subject was getting close to things he wasn’t ready to admit. He didn’t look up. “He makes me feel like I’m not beyond redemption, Henry.”

Henry leaned against the back of the lounge, sighing heavily. “The man who saved me in prison was always capable of redemption Leonard. Even then you wanted to preserve the good, even if you couldn’t see it in yourself.”

Len huffed, swallowing a lump in his throat.  “Like father, like son,” he muttered.

“Have you eaten?”  Henry asked then.

Len shook his head but said nothing.

“Good, I’ve got a huge fish I caught this morning. Come on, you can help.”

“I don’t scale or gut,” Len told him.

Henry smiled. “Fine, you can fillet and fry.”

“Done,” Len replied, following him to the kitchen.

After more large-mouth bass than Len had ever eaten in his life, Henry offered him a bed for the night, telling him he’d think about things and give him an answer in the morning. Len slept fitfully, the unfamiliar sounds of nature outside disturbing his light sleeping habit several times. He rose late in the morning to the resounding thunk of wood being chopped and came outside to find Henry cutting a store of logs.

“Very Daniel Boon out here,” Len drawled.

Henry shrugged.  “Just needed the space after all those walls.”

“And the space to think as well?” Len asked. It was common to have a period of reassessment when you came out of prison.  For people like Henry it was about how to rebuild things after all those years.  For people like Len it was usually about how to not get caught again.

Henry offered him an understanding smile and an armload of wood to carry inside.

“You ever think maybe Barry needs you back in Central?”  Len asked as he closed the door behind him. “I know it kills him you bailed as soon as you got out.”

Henry stopped a moment in piling logs beside the fireplace. “I want to be there for him, Leonard.  But I need to get myself sorted out before I can be of any use to him. I have no idea what sort of a life I can even build for myself in Central after everything that’s happened.”

Len had suggestions, but he was sure Henry had already considered them all, no need to push the point.

“Have you made a decision?”

“I’m going to call Barry,” Henry replied, holding up a hand to stall any protest.  “Just to get an assessment of his mood, not tell him anything about this.  I’ll decide when I hear how he is.”

“I better be going then,” Len told him. “There’s some stuff I need to do.”

Henry looked concerned. “Really?”

“Nothing like that. It’s actually paid employment.”

“Well then, Barry is having a positive influence.”

Len grinned, going to retrieve his belongings before riding away.  He was glad Henry had heard him out and was at least ready to entertain the idea that Len might be good for Barry, even though Len still had doubts in that regard himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Len and The Rogues begin their work for Camello Securities but Len's old life isn't about to leave him alone that easily. He also gets a shock he never saw coming.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len and The Rogues begin work for Camello Securities and start to get to know each other over the work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, so this has taken way too long and has ended up being a lot shorter than normal so I could get something up. Real Life - that unpleasant and pesky thing - has been getting in the way of finishing this up sooner. I'm also still struggling with each of the Rogues individual voices and personalities, and how they should be bouncing off each other, so that's been a headache in this one as well. 
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter will be up a lot sooner, as I have most of it written, just working through a few details.

                Len pulled up to the warehouse, filled with the usual anticipatory nerves that accompanied the beginning of any new job. He’d spent the drive back from Henry’s cabin reordering his mind to put Barry and their secret to one side. Although this job was different in so many ways, it still held the aspects of danger and the unknown that he thrived on. Ever since Lewis death he felt like he’d been spinning his wheels, even with the delightful distraction of a non-hostile Scarlet Speedster to occupy him. But he was eager to get back to work, to find a singular task to focus his attention on.

                On entering the building, he found Lisa had organized everything the way he’d asked, the large planning table set up halfway down the space, a whiteboard covered in a sheet nearby. Everyone was already seated, Lisa having organized coffee and a late breakfast as a form of greeting.

                Len looked down the length of the table at his new crew. It was an odd feeling, to have an extended group again. It had been just him, Lisa and Mick for the past several years now. It had been easier with only the three of them. He’d known he could trust them with his life and it had made for a certain level of safety. He hadn’t had to worry either of them would leave him in the lurch or worse still, stab him in the back. He’d sworn off larger crews after the debacle with Scudder and Dillon three years ago. Now he watched closely as these strangers observed each other with varying degrees of suspicion.

Baez looked relaxed, swirling the last of her coffee around the bottom of the mug glancing at the others from time to time. When she noticed Rathaway watching her, she gave him a playful wink. Bivolo had clearly spent the money Len had left him on a new set of clothes. The jeans, button-down and jacket were all low end but clean and respectable. He was also wearing a new pair of mirrored sunglasses that looked too large for his face, but Len wasn’t about to question their fashion when he knew they were only there to keep Roy from affecting people if he lost control.

Len dumped his helmet on a nearby side table and quickly stripped off the leather riding jacket, leaving him in his usual long-sleeved T.

Baez raised an eyebrow as he approached, a sly grin quirking her wide lips. “Have a good weekend, Snart?” she asked, her gaze dropping to his neck, where the hickeys were still plain for all to see.

“Yes,” he replied quickly and simply as Lisa handed him a coffee and a plate with a Danish. A quick glance at Rathaway found him wide eyed and very disappointed looking. Barry’s work had paid off then. Len let slip a tight smile as he stopped at the head of the table.

                “Right then,” he said with light clap of his hands. “Since most of you don’t know each other, let’s go around the table, introduce ourselves.”

                “Where are we, at camp?” Rathaway demanded, crossing his arms again.

                Len stared down the brat. “Humour me,” he demanded in a firm tone.

                Rathaway held his gaze for all of three seconds before huffing in disgust and sitting back with a sigh. “Hartley Rathaway. Sometimes called Piped Piper. I specialize in sonics and vibrations. Three university degrees, one masters. Fluent in six languages. Genius scientist and smarter than everyone else in this room.”

                “And so modest too,” Baez commented sarcastically and Bivolo sniggered.

                Hartley opened his mouth to protest but Mick cut him off. “Mick Rory,” he growled. “Thief, bank robber, mechanic and arsonist. They call me Heatwave, ‘cause of my Gun.” He lifted the weapon for all to see.

                “So, your basic thug then,” Rathaway put in.

                Mick considered a moment. “Yes,” he replied emphatically, staring Rathaway down as if daring him to say more.

                “I take it you’re the one who burned my parents’ painting?” the young scientist sneered, not at all deterred by Mick’s glare.

                Mick grinned, his expression becoming manic, his eyes far away. “All that oil paint. It went up in the brightest blaze!” As usual Mick sounded adoring of the fire.

                Rathaway’s expression became unbelieving but kept his mouth shut.

                “Wait!” Bivolo gasped. “You _burned_ ‘Fire and Ice’?”

                “What of it?” Mick demanded, like Roy had somehow threatened him.

                “Good, it was pretentious crap,” the struggling artist replied with a flip of his hand. “Far too simple a rendering for the complex subject it purported to express.”

                Rathaway had his head in his hand, fingers rubbing his temples as if to stave off a headache.

                “Moving on,” Len drawled before they could get further off topic. He looked hopefully at Baez.

                The woman sighed and sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Shawna Baez. Known as Peek-a-Boo. I’ve robbed a bank, pissed off some mobsters. I’m a registered surgical nurse and also…”

                Len gave her a reassuring nod to let her know it was all okay.

                “A metahuman,” she finished.

                “Join the club,” Rathaway murmured. “What can you do?”

                Mick was reaching for the last donut on the plate. Shawna grinned, and disappeared from her seat in a spiral of black smoke and reappeared right over Mick’s shoulder, snatching the donut and teleporting back to her seat, still grinning. Mick growled in threatening discontent at having lost his snack, but Baez gave him a wink, broke the donut and handed half back to him. Mick kept his eyes on her as he shoved the whole half in his mouth as if he was worried she’d try again.

                Rathaway was looking at her with sudden interest. “Do you understand how your powers work?” he demanded then.

                Her expression darkened. “The assholes at STAR Labs said something about -,” the smooth skin of her forehead wrinkled in thought. “- something entangling.”

                “Quantum entanglement,” Rathaway burst out, looking like he was suddenly about to explode in delight.

                She pointed a quick finger at him. “That’s it.” Then she shrugged. “All I know is I can teleport as long as I can see where I’m going.”

                Rathaway opened his mouth, clearly ready to ask another question.

                “Later, Hartley,” Len told him. “You’ll have plenty of time to exercise your scientific curiosity.”

                The kid sat back, looking unhappy at having been cut off but kept quiet again.

                Len nodded to Roy.

                “Roy G. Bivolo,” he started. “I like Rainbow Raider. Robbed a few banks, a couple of galleries. Freelance artist, master’s degree in art history. Also, a metahuman. I can induce anger in people if I look at them.” He looked up at Len, who again gave the same reassuring nod. If they were going to be depending on each other there was no point in any of them not being up front. “Also, fear. But I’m still getting control over that one.”

                “Hence the sunglasses,” Rathaway surmised.

                Roy nodded, looking a little ashamed and staring down at the table as if people were judging him.

                “Lisa Snart,” his sister cut in then before an awkward silence could fall. “I’ve been named Golden Glider. Criminal all-rounder. Pick-pocketing, shoplifting, honeypotting, con jobs. Dab hand with a gun, especially this baby.” she held up the Gold Gun, then looked expectantly at her brother.

                “Nice, sis,” he told her with a tight grin. Then he looked around the table. “I’m sure you all know but for completion sake I’ll take part. I’m Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold. Master thief and the man in charge of this little enterprise. I hope you can all keep that in mind.” He added sternly, letting the unspoken threat sit there for a moment before moving on. “So, I’m sure you’re all dying to know why I’ve brought this little team together, so let’s begin.”

                He dragged the nearest white board over, so it was directly behind him and pulled the sheet away with a dramatic flourish. The board was covered in photos of the building exterior and the few interiors he’d been able to find. Also details of any employees he’d been able to uncover and all the other details he had.

                 “Camello Securities,” he announced. “Bunker vault of the rich. Eight days ago, it was robbed. They have no idea who or how and they’ve asked me – and by extension all of you – to find out how and return the goods.”

                Baez let out a low whistle of surprise.

                “No cops?” Bivolo asked.

                “It’d damage their reputation if their clients found out.”

                The artist nodded. “Do we know what was stolen?”

                “Not yet, I have a meeting with them in -,” he looked at his watch. “- one hour, twenty-three minutes. I’ll get all the details then. Once we have a list of what’s missing and have had a good look at the facility to see how it was accomplished, we can start looking for the appropriate people.” He looked them all over closely. “Camello wants this completed quickly, quietly. I’m expecting all of you to remember that. Subtlety and discretion are key here.”

                “What exactly are you expecting of us?” Baez asked then, a little of the nerves she’d been hiding so well finally coming through.

                “Excellent question,” he approved, with a quick finger pointed at her. “Mick, you’re in charge of vehicles and transport. We’ve got the van and the bikes. Get me a list of anything else you think we might need.”

                “Will do,” the arsonist replied.

                “Shawna, you’re medical. There’s a standard medical array here we -,” he waved between himself, Lisa and Mick. “- usually use, but I want you to go through it, let Lisa know if there’s anything else you need, and we’ll make sure you get it.”

                Shawna looked a little surprised but nodded.

                “Hartley, you’re scientific and technical. You’ll find most of the things you asked for over in the far corner. Let me know what else we could use as we need it.”

                The kid nodded. “Of course.”

                “Lisa, you’re weapons and arms,” he said.

                “Ooh, goody!” she gushed.

                He favoured her with an exasperated expression and turned to Bivolo. “Roy, you’ll be a general runner until your particular skills are required.”

                “Required for what?” he asked, looking disappointed and confused.

                “No doubt there will have been some artworks stolen and I’m going to need someone to know what they are and where they’re likely to have been fenced too.”

                The artist’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded. “Fine.”

                “All of you will be expected to participate in any field operations as needed. And yes, that may mean having to use your powers and skills for less than legal purposes.”

                They all nodded, although Baez looked a little uncomfortable.

                “Now, let me make a few things clear. This job may be a little more legitimate than any of you are used to working, Mr Rathaway excluded. But this is still _my_ crew and _my_ job,” Len told them, bluntly. “You wait for my plans and you don’t act on your own. You’ll be living here at the warehouse for the duration so get used to that.” He looked specifically at Hartley, who was grimacing. “You don’t gossip to your friends and family and you don’t get caught up with strangers who buy you drinks at the bar.” He glared at Baez who swallowed hard and nodded quickly. “You play it close to the chest and reveal nothing to anyone unless it becomes absolutely necessary. _And you don’t kill anybody!_ Not cops, not security guards and not civilians. We don’t need the heat. Anyone dies it’ll go worse for you than for them. Got that?” He glared around the table. “Any questions?”

                Strangely, Bivolo raised a hand before saying tentatively; “Not to be picky…but I was told money up front.”

                Len smiled graciously and looked over at Lisa, who smiled and went to the same table Len had left his helmet, bringing back several plastic wrapped packages. She handed them out to the others. Len had already put the shares for Mick, Lisa and himself in their off-shore accounts.

                “Twenty thousand, as promised,” he said magnanimously, before turning his expression deadly serious again. “Of course, any of you try to leave with it before you provide assistance on this job and you will be hunted down and made to return it – with parts of your anatomy if the money isn’t readily available.” He smiled warmly again at the suddenly unsure faces around him. “Are we all good?”

                There were quick and nervous nods. “Excellent! Now, Hartley, Lisa and I will be attending Camello Securities to find out exactly what we’re expected to do. The rest of you amuse yourselves with organizing the warehouse. We’ll reconvene here at -.” He did a quick calculation to allow for the meeting, and then some planning time. “Two o’clock. We’ll have a late lunch. Roy, you’re up!”

                The artist grumbled but nodded, seeming to be unhappy with his role in the team but taking it for the moment.

 

                Half an hour later Len was on the second floor in the area where he’d created individual bedrooms for the members of the crew, using boards as makeshift walls for the moment. They provided privacy but little else. If things went well with this job he’d make them more permanent. The one he’d given himself was at the near end, right at the top of the stairs where he could hear anyone coming and going. It also had the largest window to let in the most light.

                The small mirror on the battered dresser was just enough for him to see his face and shoulders. He adjusted the mid-blue dress shirt, deciding to undo the top button. He might be trying to present a more professional image, but he was damned if he was going to ever strangle himself with a neck tie. That was taking things a step too far. He’d just finished buttoning the vest of the dark grey suit when the door swung open and Lisa strolled in. She was wearing a soft white blouse and a conservative dark brown skirt that fell to her knees. Her hair was beautifully curled and her make-up natural. She looked for all the world like a well-to-do business woman.

                “Snow would be impressed,” he commented, looking her up and down.

                “Bite your tongue,” she snapped, her eyes flashing, and Len had to chuckle. She dumped the metal box she was carrying on the dresser and pulled open the snaps.

                “What’s this?” he asked, as she lifted the lid of her make-up case.

                “If you’re trying to make an impression, then it’s probably best to hide the hickeys,” she told him, pulling out foundation and a soft sponge.

                He frowned into the mirror. With the top button open, enough of his neck was exposed to show some of the bruises.

                “Not too heavy,” he warned.

                “Don’t worry,” she told him as she pulled back the collar to begin applying it. “This stuff doesn’t come off. Which is a good thing given how heavily your boy marked his territory. There a reason he’s that possessive?”

                “Not that I know of,” he replied. She gave an unhappy grunt that he refused to go into details about Barry. He knew she was aching for all the juicy gossip about his love life, but Len had never been open about any of his affairs and he wasn’t about to start now. Even if this one did feel stronger and more permanent than any other.

                After a minute she stepped back, looking satisfied with her work. “There, good thing we have the same complexion.”

                He held out his arms. She looked him over and then nodded. “Dashing as always, big brother.”

                He looked at his watch. “You hired the car?”

                “You mean the plain sedan, that’s much more business-like than the motorcycles and van?”

                He glowered at her. “Yes.”

                “Of course,” she told him with a roll of her eyes. “It’s out on the street.”

“Good. Collect Rathaway. It’s time to go.”

                               

                Camello Securities was a surprisingly low building, only two storeys on the surface, its design plain and simple, clearly going out of its way to look inconspicuous among the other office and industrial buildings surrounding it. Len had long ago looked at the plans available at City Hall, but they were basic and lacking any of the real detail he needed to make a heist successful. The company were tight-lipped about all their security arrangements for the building. In the end Len had brushed it off as more work than profit in the end, deciding there were easier targets. It had stuck in the back of his head as a ‘one day’ challenge but other than that he’d put it out of his mind. He was aware that although it looked unimpressive on the surface it was in fact the ten storeys below ground that made the place the grand war bunker of wealth. It held vast riches, but you had to know exactly what they were and where they were. That was information was harder to come by and had made it one of the reasons he’d discarded the idea. They pulled up to the covered entrance to the facility, a valet instantly stepping forward to open the driver’s door for Len and take his keys as he climbed out. Only the best for the rich, it seemed.

                Geoffery Goddard was already waiting at the entrance, making his way down the few wide steps that lead to the large glass front doors.

                “Mister Snart,” he greeted him with an extended hand which Len shook.

                “Geoff,” he replied, and gestured to Lisa and Hartley, introducing them quickly.

                “Ms. Snart,” Goddard smiled open and friendly, shaking her hand before turning to Hartley. “Mister Rathaway.”

                Hartley was dressed in dark navy pinstripe dress pants with a matching vest, over a crisp white business shirt. He too had forgone the tie. He swapped the metal case he was carrying to his opposite hand and reached out to shake the one Geoff offered him, smiling pleasantly in greeting. “Mister Goddard.”

                Geoff ushered them into the building, where they were taken directly to the second floor and sat in a conference room at a large dark wooden table. Geoff left them for a few moments to inform the other participants of the meeting that they’d arrived.

                “You realise we’re not going to get a warm welcome,” Rathaway put in then, while looking around the room with interest.

                “That’s been anticipated,” Len told him.

                “Is he talking about Goddard being Head of Public Relations, not Security?” Lisa asked.

                Len nodded quickly. “It won’t be a problem.”

                “And you’re sure of that?” Rathaway demanded, looking for all the world like Len was a thoughtless fool.

                “Just let me do the talking,” Len replied, letting a determined glare accompany his drawl. That had Rathaway holding up his hands in surrender.

                The door opened a few moments later and Geoff reappeared with two others. The first was a stout man with short black hair, greying at the temples, who Godddard introduced as the company’s CEO Bradley Walters. The next was a large man of over six feet who stretched his suit jacket in an imposing way. He was introduced as Eric Andersen, Head of Security, and he was staring at the three criminals like they were something that had got caught on his shoe. After handshakes and introductions, they were all again seated at the table.

                “I want it made clear from the outset that I still don’t approve of this course of action. Giving these criminals access to the facility and our procedures will only open us up to the possibility of further break-ins.”

                “A viewpoint you’ve made abundantly clear over the last week,” Goddard replied, looking fed-up with the argument. “But have you had any luck with your own investigations?”

                He bristled. “We are still conducting -.”

                “I’ll take that as a no,” Len put in then.

All attention turned to him, the security chief’s outrage giving Len a warm glow as he smiled at the others around the table.

                “I suggest we forgo the pissing match and just get on with the job at hand. You don’t want the public to know you’ve had a theft. My colleagues and I can keep our mouths shut and we can find out who did this. We have contacts in places you clearly don’t, and we know how to ask the right questions so as not to arouse suspicion or draw attention to your company.”

                “Do you think you can find the goods and return them?” Walters asked, his expression intense.

                “I know I can,” Len replied with confidence. “You give me a list of everything that was taken, and I’ll know the best person to fence it to. I know where to go and who to follow up with. I might even be aware of the likely buyers who collect certain items.”

                “And what’s to say when you find them you won’t just sell them on yourself?” Andersen demanded.

                Len favoured him with a glare of disgust. “It’d be pretty stupid of me to expose myself like this and then try to keep the stuff. You’d have to go to the police then, and the last thing I want is the cops on my arse when I’ve just got free of them. Anything I retrieve, I will return.

                “Now,” he said, turning to Walters, who at least seemed willing to hear them out without fuss. “Can you get us up to speed on what you’ve done so far? You’ve had eight days. I assume you’ve already looked into your employees?”

                Walters nodded easily. “That was our first step naturally. You can understand that all our employees have been thoroughly vetted before they join our staff. Background checks are deep, and we accept only the highest level of loyalty. Staff are even baited when they first join to make sure.”

                “Baited?” Rathaway asked, looking a tad confused.

                “Approached to give out confidential information in return for money,” Lisa replied, lightly.

                “You purposely tempt your staff into betraying you?” Rathaway asked, looking surprised now. “That hardly seems ethical.”

                “Possibly not but it is effective, and not without an upside for the employees. When we learned one of them was dealing with a large gambling debt he was baited to see what would happen. When he refused the money, we rewarded him by paying out his debt and also putting him in a gambling rehabilitation program,” Walters told them. “We are as loyal to our employees as we expect them to be to us.”

                Rathaway simply nodded, seeming satisfied.

                “So, nothing turned up in your investigations?” Len put in, getting the conversation back on topic.

                “No,” Andersen replied. “Everyone remained clean, no large or unexpected payments into their accounts, even the ones they think we don’t know about.”

                “There’s no way the security systems could have been tampered with or hacked into?” Rathaway asked then.

                “No. The whole system has been audited from top to bottom, there was no attack to the cameras or sensor arrays of any sort. Our IT section has been on it since the break-in.”

                “And there was no indication beforehand?” Len asked. “No new possible customers coming to look over the place? No unexpected delivery men? Anything?”

                “We’ve been reviewing the security footage for the last six months. We haven’t found anything that could point to someone casing the building.”

                “Exactly what was taken?” Len asked then, wanting to know what was so important or valuable that it made for such an attack on such as facility.      

                He noticed Walters nod to Goddard and the Englishman pulled a paper from inside his file, sliding it across the table to Len. He quickly scanned the list of items. It was arranged by box number. There was a surprisingly large amount of stuff stolen. Most of it was jewellery but there were a few small artworks, something called the Jade Coffer and a single metal box.

                “It doesn’t say here who the items belong to,” Len said, frowning at the paper.

                “And it won’t,” Andersen told him with a satisfied smile. “Discretion is one of our selling points, Snart. Our clients trust us to keep their anonymity. There is no way in hell you are getting any names.”

                Len nodded. “Fine. But at least tell me this.” He waved the paper. “Do any of these boxes belong to the same people. Is it possible it was a targeted attack on one person or group of people?”

                Goddard shook his head. “No. You’ll see when you get down there, but it appears the theft was one without a great deal of knowledge. All the boxes opened were in one room, all close to each other. Some were broken into, but the contents left behind. Although many of our clients have more than one box, they’re assigned on a first come basis, so none of them are ever next to each other. Every one of these particular boxes belongs to a different person.”

                Len nodded. “Right, then we should go see the scene. Once Hartley collects some data and I see for myself how it was done, then we can begin work.”

                They all stood. Andersen still looked disgruntled. “At no time are any of you people going to be left alone anywhere in the facility. You want to enter somewhere you ask first, and you’ll be accompanied by one of my men.”

                “Fair enough,” Len agreed with a nod. “But remember that I won’t be asking for access to somewhere unless I think I really need it. So, don’t give me the run around on security crap.”

                Andersen glowered at him, but Walters stepped in. “Mister Andersen will give you his full co-operation. Now, I have another meeting to attend, so I’ll say good luck to you,” he held out a hand, which Len shook again, and the CEO nodded politely to Lisa and Hartley before he left them.

                Len gestured for Andersen and Goddard to lead the way to the vault and then they were being directed out of the room.

 

                The vault itself was eight storeys underground. The building was quite straightforward, the lift the only way in or out, with only one corridor per floor that lead to a single huge round vault door. There was nowhere a thief could hide from view. The cameras clearly showed the whole of the elevator space and the single corridor was monitored by fixed cameras at either end, which meant there was no point in the length of the corridor that was out of sight of the devices. If they’d picked up nothing there was nothing to pick up. He noted the motion sensors, laser grids, fire suppression systems and other security measures with ease. Even the air conditioning system was blowing out dozens of tiny vents rather than the standard single large version that would have been big enough for someone to crawl through.

                As they came to the far end of the corridor, Len raised a surprised eyebrow and Hartley let out a low whistle. The vault door was off its hinges, resting against one wall, the edges of the door and the frame jagged like the two-foot-thick steel had been cut around and through, with what Len didn’t know yet.

He turned to Andersen. “The thief did this?” he waved at the door.

“No, we did,” Andersen told him, reluctantly. “The first indication we had that something was happening was when the cameras inside the vault started going out one by one. Shortly after heat and motion sensors went off. By the time we got personnel down here, the door had been – for want of a better word – melted shut. It took us four hours with an industrial laser to re-melt the steel and get inside.”

Len frowned. “How long between the first camera going down and guards arriving?”

“Five minutes,” Andersen said.

“Five minutes to melt it and four hours to open it?” Lisa demanded.

“One of the curiosities of the crime that made us call you,” Goddard put in, gesturing for them to make their way inside.

“Hartley,” Len said turning to the young scientist. “Start with that.”

The kid nodded in response and squatted down by the door, opening the case he’d brought with him.

The interior of the room was a simple square. The three walls - left, right and rear - were covered from floor to the eight-foot ceiling in what looked like safety deposit boxes. All neat little rows of doors with electronic locks on the front. The boxes at the bottom were larger, the ones at the top smaller. Many on the rear wall had been ripped open, the door hanging off or gone all together.

“What’s behind there?” Len asked, looking at a plain metal door in the left-hand wall.

“That’s basically a maintenance hatch,” Andersen told them. “So, the delivery system can be worked on if needed.”

“Delivery system?” Lisa asked.

“Our clients get a personalised key and password they use in the Viewing Room upstairs. Once they key those in, the delivery system draws the whole box from the wall and delivers it via elevator and conveyor belt to the Viewing Room. That way there are no extra hands for the item to pass through and the owners never have to see this part of the facility.”

                “May I look?” Lisa asked, pointing to the door. Andersen looked reluctant, but Goddard opened the door and held it for her with gentlemanly politeness. While she disappeared from view, Len turned his attention to the mangled remains of the boxes in the far wall.

                From the list of the items in his hand he could see there was thirty-seven boxes that had been broken into. It represented a fraction of the boxes in here. He frowned, wondering why these ones were chosen.

                “The thief could have been in here for four hours,” Len muttered, flicking the broken remains of one of the doors, that again looked to have been melted open.

                “No, they would have only have had about an hour at most,” Andersen told him.

                “How do you figure that?”

                “Because the airflow was turned off as soon as it became clear there was someone in here.”

                Len raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You were willing to suffocate them to keep the goods?”

                Andersen bristled again, his gaze becoming flat and angry. “We were willing to use it as a negotiation option. They were informed, several times over the communication system that if they stopped what they were doing and surrendered we’d turn to the air back on. We got no response.”

                “An hour for all this,” Len said, impressed. “That’s very efficient.”

                “We were thinking they used the same device on the boxes as they used on the door,” Goddard told him.

                Len looked back at the list in his hand, noting the amount of jewellery, a set of miniature portraits by a moderately famous painter, a couple of small pre-histroic statues and a medieval dagger. The floor was littered with opened and empty velvet jewellery cases and he trod carefully between them as he got closer to the wall. There were also several boxes that had been opened and then discarded. A quick lift of the smashed lids showed papers and documents. He frowned, considering.

                “What exactly is the Jade Coffer?” he asked, noting it had a box number on the bottom row of the wall, where the larger items were stored.

                “Exactly what it says,” Goddard told him. “It’s a chest carved from a single piece of jade, about a foot square, gold hinges, inlaid gems. What are you thinking?”

                “Not sure yet, give me a sec,” he muttered.

                At that moment Lisa came back from the maintenance area. A quick shake of her head told him there was nothing there to give them any clues.

                He looked at the list again and then up at the wall. In the top right of the group of ransacked boxes there was one door that was a single column apart from the others, making it stand out from the rest. He matched the contents to the number.

                “This one,” he said, pointing. “It says the contents was a small metal box.”

                “What of it?” Andersen asked, looking interested finally.

                Len gestured around the containers and boxes scattered about. “They took the time to remove the jewellery and artworks from their cases, probably put it all in this Jade Coffer to save space. But I don’t see this small metal box on the ground, so they must have taken it with them. What was in the box?”

                Goddard and Andersen looked at each other, their expressions uneasy.

                “We don’t know,” Goddard admitted.

                “How can you not know?” Len demanded.

                “Discretion and privacy are key to this business, mister Snart,” Goddard told him. “Although a lot of our clients give us some details of what’s in their box for insurance purposes, we don’t actually require them to tell us.”

                “Are you telling me that someone could be storing a nuclear bomb or Anthrax in your facility and you would have no idea?”

                “There are certain protocols in place to make sure such extremes as that don’t happen, but in general…yes,” Goddard admitted.

                Len ran an incredulous hand over his face before pointing at the broken door of the lone box again. “This is the reason for the break-in. Someone wanted whatever was in that metal box.”

                “What makes you so sure?” Andersen demanded.

                “The box is separated from the others slightly,” Len explained, pointing to the broken box. “But then the thief decided to start opening other boxes, here in the middle of the room. Their fairly low down on the wall, going all the way to the floor, points to someone not that tall. But they would have had to stretch to reach that first box.

                “Also, it’s the only thing they didn’t discard the container for.” He waved at the rest of the broken doors. “This is all a thief just taking an opportunity, opening random boxes until they found something they could sell. That’s why they left the documents. But whatever was in that metal box was important enough to keep intact. Given what you’ve just told me, it’s possible opening it could have been dangerous.”

                “So, what do we do?” Goddard asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

                “Whoever wanted that box clearly knew what was in it. If I can talk to the owner I can find out what was so important and so who was likely to want to steal it.”

                “No,” Andersen said with a shake of his head. “I’ve already told you, we’re not giving you the names of any of our clients.”

                “I need to talk to the owner and I need to do it now!” Len told him, vehemently.

                “What’s the rush?” Goddard asked, uncertain.

                “Whoever the actual thief is, they were hired to do this job. Believe me, I’ve worked enough of them over the years. It’s incredibly easy to do a job and come away with more than you expected. That’s what all the jewellery is, the thief taking extra on top of what they came for. They could sit on the jewellery for years before trying to fence it. But they’re going to pass off the metal case to whoever hired them, soon. Once it gets into their hands you’ll never see it again.”

                “If the client learns -.” Andersen began.

                “If you tell them it’s missing you have the opportunity to get it back. If you don’t tell them, then it’s just gone and you’re in a worse position with them. I understand that either option makes you look bad but at least option one gives you the chance to save some face.”

                Andersen looked like he was grinding his teeth.

“A moment, if you will,” Goddard said, taking the security chief by the arm and taking him to one side of the room.

Len gave them a minute to talk while he went to Hartley, who was currently squatting down just inside the door, wiping it carefully with a small brush.

“What have you got?”

Hartley huffed. “The door was definitely melted with some form of high heat source, possibly a laser of some sort, I’ll know more when I’ve analysed the metal samples I took. But this room is cleaner than some labs I’ve worked in – and look at this.” He pointed to the small pile of dust he was mounding up with the brush.

“Know what it is?” Len frowned slightly at the pile of white and silver flecks.

“Some sort of granular powder, definitely not ordinary dust,” Hartley told him. “Again, I’ll know more once I run some tests.” He pulled a small container from the case and began brushing the powder into it.

“Mister Snart,” Goddard said then, calling his attention.

He went to them, schooling his expression into something expectant.

 “We’ve agreed the client should be contacted,” Goddard said. “But we’ve also agreed that we should be the ones to do it. We don’t want to include a third party in this until it becomes absolutely necessary.”

Len took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay. But you have to get me the information as soon as possible. It’s been over a week, they could have passed it on already.”

Goddard nodded. “If there’s nothing else to be found here, I think it’s time we vacate so you can start your analysis.”

“We won’t have anything else until Hartley finishes the science,” Len agreed. “I can start putting out feelers for the jewellery, but it might not have been fenced yet. They’re more likely to let any heat die down before they think about that.”

“I understand,” Goddard replied. “I’ll contact you as soon as we learn anything.”

The drive back to the warehouse was quiet as Len processed what he’d seen and heard.

“Lise, when we get back -.”

“I’ll contact our fences, put out feelers for the goods,” she cut in with a nod. “Do you mind if I ask to buy? Might get a better response, since they know how much I like the sparklies.”

Len nodded. “Just watch it on how much you’re willing to spend. Don’t want to actually end up buying the stuff back.”

Lisa pouted. “Spoil Sport.”

“There was no way they could have got into the vault through the delivery system?” Len asked.

“Not unless they were a miget contortionist,” she replied. “Too much mechanics in the way. Besides, the system is enclosed. Only place it leads is from the vaults to the Viewing Room, and since the cameras there never stopped working looks like no one went in or out that way.”

Len nodded but said nothing, frustrated he couldn’t move forward. If he could talk to the owner of the box it would be so much simpler, but he was forced to sit kicking his heels until Goddard got back to him. He couldn’t even plan anything else until he knew what he was looking for and he doubted the jewellery was going to give him any leads.

As soon as they returned Rathaway disappeared to his lab space and Len could soon hear small pieces of machinery whirring to life. Lisa said something about changing into something more ‘her’ while Len peeled off the suit jacket and opened a further button on his shirt before sitting down at the planning table. How did you break into such a place unseen and get away with that much stuff? He looked again at the list of stolen items in front of him. He realized he should make copies for everyone to look at, quickly adding ‘photocopier’ to the list of equipment he had to purchase.

Soon after the others began drifting towards the table, Mick looking mildly curious for once and Baez intrigued.

“Chicken Caesar or ham salad?” Bivolo broke into his thoughts.

Len frowned up at him. The artist was carrying a small wicker basket with a handle draped over his forearm. It was full of long rolls wrapped in paper.

The artist frowned back when Len didn’t answer right away. “I didn’t know what people’s preferences were, so I thought I’d go simple sandwiches to start with.”

“Chicken,” he replied quickly and took the roll he was offered.

When Lisa returned in jeans and a soft t-shirt, and Hartley wandered over, his hands fiddling with a tablet he was carrying, Len brought the meeting to order. It went well enough, everyone eating in between questions and comments about what they’d found out, and little by way of arguments about what it might all mean. There was one word that kept being brought up though. Metahuman. And although Len slammed the idea that they concentrate on that angle until they knew more, he was privately beginning to think that powers were the mostly likely explanation of how someone could have gotten in and out unseen.

 

Len was just finishing his foot-long salad roll when his phone rang. Checking the caller ID he picked it up quickly.

“Geoff, what have you got?” he asked, by way of greeting.

“Nothing,” Goddard replied, just as quickly. “We’ve been completely unable to contact the owner by any means. Our security staff are still engaged looking through data here, but if you’re right about that box being the reason for the break-in then I cannot help but think this lack of contact pertains to the crime. I’ve managed to get Andersen to agree to you going to the address we have for the client. He’ll meet you there.”

“Text it to me,” he told him. “We’ll leave now.”

“Of course.” There was a pause on the end of the line. “This development makes me uneasy. I’m sure you know how to look after yourself mister Snart, but I hope all of your team can as well.”

Len smirked down the phone. “I’ve already set Hartley to work on the analysis of his samples. I’m sure he’s going to be tied up in there for hours. I have others who’ll accompany me to the address.”

There was a barely disguised sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “Of course. Thank you mister Snart.”

They hung up, Len wondering how it was young Rathaway had managed to pick up an admirer so quickly without doing anything other than smile. His phone dinged a moment later, displaying an address in Mounds View.

“Mick, Baez, we’re up,” he called, drawing the Rogues attention to him. “Got to go visit Camello’s client.”

“Is there trouble?” Baez asked, looking concerned.

“Don’t know but they can’t raise them, so we’re going to have to visit their home. We’ll take the van.”

“Ready to go,” Mick told him with a nod as he holstered the Heat Gun.

 

“Quick Draw Guns and Ammunition” was a long-time institution in Central City, the shop having existed in one form or another since the 1800s. It had moved location countless times and had several owners over the last century, but the store had always remained the largest stockiest of weapons and ammunition in the city, _the_ place to go if you were looking for a legally sourced firearm. Of course, over the years there had been times when it was also possible to buy illegal firearms as well, but as far as Len knew the newest owner was not involved in anything nefarious. It had been a long time since Len had entered the place, and then at its previous location. He stood outside on the pavement, with Mick and Baez, watching Andersen approach them through the thin crowd on the street.

He greeted them with a brief nod.

“The address you have is a gun shop and you didn’t think there might be something nasty in the box?” Len demanded.

“It only listed a street address, not the business name,” Andersen replied, looking at the machetes and katanas displayed in the window behind wire lined glass. “But this isn’t quite the address.” He was frowning as he jerked his head towards the sign above the door that declared the street number to be 57. “We’re looking for 57B.”

They made their way down a narrow alley beside the gun shop and stopped at a heavy metal door that was covered in an industrial mesh cover. When no one answered their knock, Len pulled out his lockpicks, but quickly found he didn’t need them as both doors were unlocked. Even Andersen looked uncomfortable at that development and pulled a small caliber handgun from the back of his belt just as Len and Mick did the same. Len knew the security manager had military training from looking into the company’s employees, so he let the man go first, and they all slipped inside, Baez bringing up the rear, her telescope in her hand, to be used as a weapon if needed.

The space inside was completely open, living areas at the near end, bedroom, kitchen and living room all taking up one combined space. The far wall of the warehouse was set up as a test range, shot up paper targets lining it. The middle of the huge room was clearly the man’s work space, a large wide table was the main feature, where guns could be worked on or plans developed. Welding, soldering and grinding machines were set up in neat rows beside the work area.

And every single inch of the building had been ransacked. The bed was turned over, the mattress on the floor. The kitchen cupboards were thrown open, the contents scattered about without reason. Tools were scattered on the floor, where they’d been ripped from inside drawers. No container had been left un opened.

“Nobody touches anything,” Len snarled, already pulling on the pair of soft leather gloves he used for B&Es.

A moment later Mick was doing the same and they moved silently through the space.

“Want me to check the corners?” Baez asked, waiting by the door.

“That’d be helpful,” Len told her, with a nod.

The next thing the woman was blinking around the room, covering the far corners, stopping by the door that held the bathroom with nothing found. Finally, she stopped on the other side of the work table, her face pale.

“Snart,” she called quietly, her voice still managing to echo slightly in the large space.

Making sure not to step in a pool of gun lubricant that had spilled from an over turned container, he made his way to her. She was squatting down, staring at the floor and the smear of blood that marked the otherwise clean floor, clear evidence someone had been dragged away bleeding.

“If they knew what was in the box then why come here?” Andersen postulated, even as he stared at Baez in shock and awe. She saw the expression and gave him an exaggerated wink.

“I always have back-up plans for back-up plans,” Len said, going back to the work table. “Maybe our thief does too, covering his bases.”

 “What would he find?” Baez asked, standing and taking a step away from the blood.

Mick suddenly let out a low whistle, standing up from where he was kneeling by the work table. He had a torn sheet of paper in his hand, holding out wordlessly to Len.

It was a design for modifications to a large caliber handgun to include a detachable torch or laser sight, or incredibly what looked like some sort of miniature grenade launcher Len had never seen before. What took his attention though was the logo in the bottom right corner. It was a gunsight with the letters T.G.S. written in three of the quadrants.

“What is it?” Andersen asked, looking over Len’s shoulder.

“This isn’t just any gunsmith’s workshop. It belongs to The Gunsmith.”

“Who’s that?”

“No one knows his real name,” Len said. “He lets people call him Gunny, apparently. I’ve never met him, never had need too. But if you want an above spec, illegal, customized gun with specialized features, he’s the man you come to. I’ve seen at least three of his pistols in the hands of Santini enforcers.” He pointed to the logo. “That’s his symbol. Puts it on all his work.”

“So, it was one of his customized guns in the vault?” Baez asked.

“More than likely,” Len said, his gaze falling on the large chest of blueprint drawers at one end of the worktable. Every drawer had been opened, the contents ransacked as everything else. Many of the large plans littered the floor but Len was taken by the lump in the middle of a pile of them.

“But if they had the gun then why come here?” Andersen said again.

“Get the original plans,” Mick told him.

Andersen was nodding in understanding. “Then they’d have a one of a kind weapon that can’t be traced.”

“Or they can have someone else make as many of them as they like,” Mick told him. “Depending on the weapon, that could alter the power struggles in this town.”

With cautious fingers Len lifted the pile of plans, smiling a little at what he found. “Someone wasn’t quite as thorough as they should have been,” he muttered, lifting the shattered laptop from under the pile. It looked like a hammer had been taken to the keyboard and screen.

“Will you be able to get anything off it?” Andersen asked.

“Hartley can work all kinds of technical wonders,” Len told him with confidence, even though he no idea if Rathaway was capable or not. “For now, I think we need to get out of here before anyone comes looking for Gunny and finds all that’s left is that blood stain.”

“You can’t be sure that’s his,” Andersen said, glancing at the rusty red mark.

“Whoever they are, they were willing to break into a facility better protected than Fort Knox. I can’t imagine they’d baulk at killing someone to get what they want,” Len told him.

They retreated quickly, Len wiping down the door and mesh cover to get rid of their initial prints.

“I’ll get back to the office,” Andersen said, holstering his gun. “We’ll try and find out as much as we can about the man who held this space.”

Len nodded. “We’ll keep working on the thief.”

They parted ways and Len and the others were soon on their way back to the warehouse. So, weapons dealers were now on his list of people to look into as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A meta made of burning molten Tar shows up in Central. Harry is acting even grumpier than usual. The Rogues continue their search for the Camello thief and Barry and Len have another weekend together.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry begins helping a reluctant Harry in finding a solution to closing the breaches to Earth-Two. Len starts getting the Rogues organised but is frustrated by lack of results for Camello Securities. And a new metahuman with the ability to manipulate burning tar appears in Central.

                Monday night found Barry out on patrol, racing through the city feeling strangely light. The Speed Force was lifting and driving him forward, the lightning sparking through his system as a comfortable background buzz. There had been nothing that required his attention so far tonight, so it had just been a pleasant run to burn off excess energy. That being the case, he was in need of some calories, so decided it was time to head home for dinner.

Arriving at the West’s front door with a sharp stop, he took a moment to gaze through the door’s window. Joe, Iris and Eddie were at the table, chatting and eating pizza, comfortable as any family could be with each other. Barry smiled, amazed at how easily Eddie had slotted into their lives. It made sense of course, he knew about the Flash, was Joe’s partner and was deliriously in love with Iris. There was no point of contention, or secrets to be kept. Barry stalled with his hand on the door as Wally moved into view. The young man sat down with them, looking happy, laughing quietly at something Joe said. He glanced down at the suit he was wearing. There was no way he could enter wearing this in front of Wally.

With a sigh he pulled back from the door before anyone noticed him and sped away. There it was again, that tight twist in his gut that signalled he was feeling pushed out. It wasn’t true, he knew it wasn’t, but part of him had a hard time dealing with the arrival of the newest West. The way Joe smiled with such pride at the knowledge he had a real son made Barry nervous. It shouldn’t, he was an adult now afterall, he didn’t need to be hanging from Joe like the lifeline he had been when Barry’s mom had first been killed. He guessed it had something to do with not having any other family. With his dad out of Central and not really taking part in his life, the Wests were all Barry had. If Joe and Iris suddenly felt they didn’t need Barry any more, didn’t need to be his family now they had Wally to care for, where did that leave him? Alone in the world, as he’d felt horribly so the night his mom died, and his dad disappeared to prison.

Big Belly Burger served as a convenient source of calories but after a quick half dozen burgers and fries, what to do? Joe could keep Wally there for hours sharing stories and getting to know each other. He’d be damned if he was going to crawl in through his own bedroom window. Well, whatever else he wanted to avoid right now, he couldn’t ignore the existence of Zoom, so he decided it was time he stopped chasing after him and try to do something that might finally get them ahead of him.

 

He flashed into the Cortex, changing out of his suit and into some normal clothes before making his way down the winding circular corridors. He was a little surprised to find the lights still on in Cisco’s workshop, but then not at all surprised to find Harry, still hard at work, even at nine o’clock.

“Hey,” he greeted him, beginning to roll up his sleeves.

“Hey,” Harry replied, startled and quickly shuffling papers on his workstation, looking strangely tense and wary of his sudden appearance. “You're here late.”

“As are you.”

“Well, it’s not like I have anywhere else I can go,” the scientist replied. “Shouldn't you be out... doing -,” he made odd mechanical motions with his hands that Barry supposed to be dance moves but from what planet he had no idea. “- whatever it is that 26-year-olds do on a Monday night?”

“Ah, I couldn’t sleep, too much energy,” Barry lied. No need to let anyone else in on his feelings towards Wally. “So, I thought I would tackle the breach problem. See if I could figure out how to close them. Looks like you had the same idea.”

Harry paused to look at him closely for a moment. “Right. I work better alone.”

Barry smiled. “Oh, no, haven't you heard the expression ‘two heads are better than one’?”

“No,” Harry replied simply and emphatically.

Barry frowned in confusion. Seriously? “Must be an Earth-One thing.”

“You understand, for me, that my Earth is Earth-One?”

“Yeah.” Barry conceded. The whole numbering Earths still felt way to random for him, even if it was a convenient way to distinguish between them all.

“Your Earth has yet to create CFL quark matter -,” Harry grumped, his anger seeming to grow at Barry’s continued presence. “- and so, it would take you too long to catch up on the science. I’ll do it by myself.” He turned back to his desk to go back to his work.

“This science?” Barry asked, picking up one of a pile of physics texts that Cisco had clearly gathered for his own reference.

“Yes, that science.” Harry replied with barely a glance back.

“Watch this,” Barry told him, tapping into the Speed Force with ease. A moment later the pages were flipping passed at inhuman speed, the words entering Barry’s mind as he read the four texts in less than a minute. He could hear Harry grump; “That's annoying.”, before he sat back, head spinning slightly and a little overwhelmed by the amount of information he’d just absorbed.

“Wow,” he muttered, blinking his eyes rapidly as he sat back with a deep breath. “All right, I'm all caught up for the next, like, thirty minutes, give or take.” He noticed one book under a pile of papers on Harry’s desk where he was working. “Looks like I missed one though.” He made to grab it.

Harry’s hand slammed down on the pile, a look of frustration and discontent gracing his features as he stared at Barry. “All right, you can assist, but I'm in charge.”

Barry smiled happily, glad he’d shown the older man he was worthy to help. “Yeah, of course, you're in charge,” he agreed.

With a low grunt Harry began to tell him what he’d been working on so far, and Barry sat back on a stool and let the knowledge flow with the information he’d just learned, letting himself forget about Wally and Joe and the whole family situation.

 

Tuesday morning and Barry was waiting for some fingerprints to run against the database when the courier arrived. He felt himself flush as the man knocked on the door, interrupting him as he was singing to himself, more loudly than he’d realised. He had Barry sign for the rectangular box before leaving quickly to his next delivery.

Barry frowned at the unadorned cardboard box. It wasn’t a shape that evidence usually arrived in and he hadn’t ordered anything for the office. Inside was another box, this one was covered in red foil and tied with a gold bow. More confused Barry set it on the desk in front of him and gently opened it. Inside were twelve hand-dipped chocolate hearts. In the lid was a business card for a chocolatier from an upmarket suburb of Central.

Turning the card over, the note read: _“The only heart I’m interested in is yours. L.”_

Barry stared at the message for a long time, reading it again and again. This was romance. Len didn’t do romance. Did Len do romance? He shook his head in confusion before snatching up his phone.

_OMG! Did I act like such a teenage girl you thought you had to do this?_

_OMG?! You’re still acting like a teenage girl_

_Seriously? I mean it’s really thoughtful, but you didn’t have to_

_You didn’t have to make my neck look like I’d gone ten rounds with a rabid ferret_

_Yeah, I did_

_Rathaway looked disappointed_

_Make sure he stays that way!_

_Yes, o light of my life_

Barry sat back, smiling and looking at the chocolates and reading the note again. A happy giggle escaped him, and he looked around guilty, as if there might be someone who had heard him. He took one of the hearts, popping it in his mouth with a contented sigh. The perfectly tempered dark chocolate cracked sharply against his teeth and thick strawberry cream flowed over his tongue, causing him to groan with pleasure at the perfect combination.

He was just considering having another when his phone rang. He was a little surprised by the caller ID but picked it up immediately.

“Dad!”

“Hey Slugger.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just thought I’d call, follow up, see how you’re going with your recovery.”

“Ah, everything’s great. I’m back to my old self in that regard,” Barry said, still reluctant to talk about Flash stuff here at the precinct even though he knew he was alone. “Full speed ahead.”

“That’s great, Bear,” Henry said. “How’s everything else?”

“It’s…getting better,” Barry admitted unable to keep the smile out of his voice as he looked at the box again. “We’re working on closing the breaches and in the meantime, I’m taking the time to look after myself a bit.”

“Really?” Henry sounded interested. “How are you doing that?”

“Well for a start I’m taking the weekends off unless there’s an emergency,” he told him. “Getting out of the house and the lab and doing…other...things.”

“Sounds like these other things are making you happy,” Henry commented his voice upbeat.

“Oh god, it’s been the best thing I’ve done in a long time,” Barry admitted, holding the note in his hand, a grin still stretching his face. “It’s just nice to get away from everything else, you know?”

“I understand that,” Henry told him. “Well okay Bear, you stay safe. I don’t want to take you away from your work, so I’ll give you another call soon.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Love you son.”

“Love you too, dad.”

He hung up, pushing the chair with his feet so he swivelled around in a circle, letting out a quiet whoop.  Just then the finger print database beeped that it had found a match. He put the chocolates in the middle draw of his desk, deciding to keep them for special moments and went back to his work day, humming again as he printed out the results.

 

An hour later he was finishing up the printed report for the detectives when Joe appeared in the lab doorway.

“Hey Bear, I wanted to talk to you about what you said the other day.”

Barry ran his hands over his face in frustration. _Again?_ “Look Joe, can you _just stop_! I’m not going to -.”

“Not about that,” Joe told him, shaking his head. “About something else you said. Were you really scared I was gonna send you away if you behaved badly?”

Barry paused, slightly thrown by the topic. “Uh, um, well yeah. I was.”

“Why?” Joe demanded, looking hurt and confused.

Barry looked down, finding his hands already wrung together in his lap. “The night mom died, you took me home. I thought I’d be staying there. But the next day the woman from child services arrived and took me to that group home, remember?”

“Yeah,” Joe said. “We had to jump through all the official hoops to get me registered as a foster carer, they had to do all the usual background checks, interviews, all that crap. It took a while before I got the final okay.”

“I was in that group home for a month, Joe,” Barry said, trying to suppress the shudder at the memory by standing up and beginning to ailessly rearrange items on his desk. “I’d only ever seen whole families that loved each other. Until then, I was blissfully unaware of how other kids could be treated or the horrible situations they could find themselves in. There were kids so angry, all they could do was act out in violence, others were so broken they wouldn’t even speak. And I heard a lot of stories – about being sent from foster carer to foster carer. About the neglect and abuse. When you finally came to get me that day, I was so relieved, I swore I was never going to do anything to upset you, so you’d send me back into that system.”

“But Barry, you already knew me,” Joe insisted. “You had to have known -.”

“I didn’t know anything at that point. Come on Joe, you’d met mom and dad when Iris and I had sleepovers and stuff, but you were hardly best friends with them. And I’d seen how strict you could be with Iris. It was suddenly a whole new dynamic and I had no idea how to handle it. Add to that how angry I was with you and the rest of the world for not believing me. It took a couple of years before I felt truly safe.”

Joe reached out and drew him into a tight embrace. “Son, I was never, ever going to send you away, no matter how you’d acted. And I tried desperately to make sure I didn’t push you away either.” He pulled back a bit, resting his hands on Barry’s shoulders. “And I’m gonna try and do the same thing now. I am not happy, not knowing where or who you disappear with, but you are right. You’re an adult and I gotta deal with not always knowing everything about your life.”

Barry smiled, remembering why it was he loved the man so much. He wasn’t good with change, never had been. His kids growing up had been one of the hardest for Joe, but he was still full of love for them and Barry was eternally grateful that Joe West’s home was the place he grew up.

“But you just gotta promise me that if anything feels even mildly off you come get help, okay?”

Barry held him again, resting his chin on his shoulder. “You will be the first person I call.”

Joe tapped the side of his head. “Come on, we got a crime scene.”

The crime scene turned out to be a mechanics garage that held one of the more disgusting sights Barry had had to work over the years. The victim, an ex-crim by the name of Daniel Burges looked like he’d been dipped in a volcano. There was little left but a blackened and charred skeleton with chunks of burned flesh hanging off it. Joe’s conversations with others at the scene found no evidence of a secondary accelerant and there was no damage to any of the surrounding equipment and cars in the room. With little else to go on, Barry took a few samples back to STAR Labs for analysis. Meanwhile, Joe was going to have lunch with Iris, saying she wanted to talk about Wally. Barry felt that uncomfortable clench in his gut again at the mention of the young man, even though Joe had just reassured Barry he wasn’t going to let his foster son get away.

                By Tuesday afternoon Barry had finished all his current evidence analysis and so had taken the time to come back to STAR Labs and continue working on the breach problem with Harry. As much as he loved having his own lab back at the precinct, he was also finding it pleasant to be working with another scientist on a mutual project for once. Despite his gruff manner, Harry was just as much a genius as Thawne had been and Barry was continually surprised by his width and breadth of scientific knowledge.

                “Um….,” Barry mumbled to himself trying to remember something from one of the texts he’d read the night before.

“What's the matter?” Harry asked, absently, as he continued to work on equations on the white board.

“Um...I can't remember, is the helicity of a particle left-handed if its spin and motion is the same, or opposite?” Barry asked, and then decided he had a better idea on how to find out.

“It's...”

“Hold on, don't answer that.” He grabbed up the textbooks and flew through the pages again, re-reading all the topics. He looked up at Harry with a satisfied grin. “Opposite. I knew that.”

“You know that's really annoying?” Harry told him bluntly.

“Uh, you know, I just got to...,” he clicked his tongue and tapped his temple. “- recharge the old short-term every once in a while.” He gave a happy sigh, recalling those times before he knew the truth about Thawne, when Harrison Wells was his idol and working with him had been one of the great joys of Barry’s life. “You know, this feels like old times.”

                “Okay,” Harry replied turning his attention back to the whiteboard, clearly concentrating on his work.

“Yeah, I mean, I know, obviously, this is our first time working together, but I am learning a lot from you. The last Wells was a real mentor.” He sighed quietly, wondering over the complications of the relationship he’d shared with Eobard Thawne. “He believed that I could do anything,” he went on with a smile, one that turned sour when he remembered that Thawne had already known everything he was capable of, so there had been no faith on his part. “Made me believe it too,” he added, realising part of his desire to push himself, to learn more had been to make Wells proud of him. His gut churned at the idea of ever holding the man so highly in his mind.

“Okay,” Harry said without emotion, obviously only half listening.

“He opened up whole new worlds to me,” Barry mused, thinking again over the depth of that relationship. How Barry had trusted so completely, cared so easily, looked up to the man so totally. He huffed quietly, realising the horrible depth of it now. “Guess he really was like another father, almost.”

He was pulled out of his musing as Harry threw the whiteboard marker at him, the pen narrowly missing his ear as he flinched out of the way.

“Stop it, all right?” The older man shouted angrily.

“What?” Barry demanded, shocked at the sudden outburst.

“I did not ask for you help, okay?” Harry cried, flailing his arms dramatically. “I certainly did not ask to be your _mentor_.” He made it sound like an accusation.

Barry flinched back again at the total change of mood. “Okay, relax. I was just talking about...”

“Hey, you know what?” Harry continued to rant, cutting him off. “I have a kid already. I don't need another one, so scram. Let me finish this by myself.”

Barry rose slowly from his seat as Harry turned back to the board, going back to his equations. “All right,” he muttered, hurt and not understanding what he’d suddenly said to upset the man so much. Confused, he wandered slowly back into the Cortex.

Cisco appeared out of one of the other side labs, looking excited. “Hey, I ran your crime scene samples six ways from Sunday.” He paused when he saw Barry’s expression. “What's wrong with you?”

Barry shrugged and shook his head, not knowing how to explain it. “Uh, nothing, just Harry being Harry. What's up?”

Cisco clearly understood what Barry meant, giving him a sympathetic nod before moving on. “Two things, very strange. One, definitely metahuman cells in the oil. And two, Burges didn't die from his burns.”

“It was suffocation,” Caitlin put in from the side, stepping up to show Barry the details on her tablet.

“Suffocation?” Barry thought a moment. “That makes sense, actually. The burns indicated that the body was covered in something.”

Cisco nodded, pulling up another set of data onto the monitor. “Cross-referencing O2 levels in the organic matter, I found a direct match to animals trapped and preserved in an asphalt seep. The guy was fossilized.” He looked way too excited about it.

 “Whoa,” Barry grimaced at the idea of being covered in hot asphalt. “So, whoever killed him is like a walking... Tarp-.”

“Tarpit!” Cisco snapped. He patted Barry’s shoulder in sympathy at having been stopped from reaching the name first. “Mmm, too slow. It's okay.”

Barry ignored the comment. “So, he's basically drowning them in tar! God, that's a horror show! Why did he target Daniel Burge at the garage?”  

Just as Caitlin was shaking her head, Cisco’s phone started to blare out Carl Orff’s ‘O Fortuna’.

“Oh, that's my metahuman social media app,” he snatched up his phone, quickly showing them the list of combined sightings and uploads that were happening in real-time. “There's an attack in progress. 6th and Bell, downtown.”

Barry was in the suit and on his way in moments. Arriving at the scene, he found it was an open space on the street, with at least a dozen onlookers taking photos and video of the incident. A large man with dark hair and what Barry could only guess was black tar, dripping from his eyes, ears and the corners of his mouth had a much smaller, scrawny little guy cornered in front of a car.

“Remember me, Clay?” Tarpit was snarling.

The guy named Clay was staring at him in utter shock. “We killed you!” he burst out.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Barry called into he comms.

“Oh, yeah, we see it,” Cisco told him, emphatically.

Barry watched in horrified fascination as Tarpit held out a hand, palm up and a huge lump of burning tar pooled there. Barry shot forward, grabbing Clay and pulling him out of the way just as as Tarpit threw the projectile, melting a hole in the car door where Clay had just been standing.

“All right, any ideas?” Barry demanded over the comms, seriously not wanting to think about how long it would take one of those burns to heal.

“Viscosity of asphalt lowers as its temperature lowers,” Cisco said then.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, and it hardens,” Caitlin put in, sounding excited at the idea.

“Find a way to cool him down!” Cisco shouted excitedly down the comms.

Barry looked around his immediate area, for anything that could be used to cool down the meta, his eyes falling on a fire hydrant in the opposite direction from the onlookers, who were still stupidly videoing the event, even with the iminent danger.

Barry shot over to stand in front of it. “Hey, barbeque!” He shouted to get Tarpit’s attention away from his target. “Hit me with your best shot!”

Tarpit growled in anger and frustration and threw another ball of hot tar at Barry, who flashed out of the way with ease, the tar hitting the hydrant with enough force to rip it out of place, sending a huge spray of water high into the sky. It rained down on the street, showering everyone, including the meta, who quickly turned into a dripping pool of tar that disappeared under the street.

“Oh, yeah! Team Flash!” Cisco was crying in triumph over the comms. Barry was sure he could hear the clap of high-fives being exchanged back there.

He flashed back over to the terrified and confused looking guy named Clay. Barry grabbed the front of his hoodie. “Hey, buddy. I've got some questions for you. Let's go.” He flashed him quickly back to CCPD for questioning.

Clay, turned out to be Clay Stanley, a suspected hitman that the CCPD has been trying to track for a while, but they hadn't been able to make anything stick. After two hours of questioning by Joe and Eddie, he still refused to answer any questions about who the meta might be or why he was trying to kill Clay. Barry ended up back at STAR Labs, waiting for their facial recognition software to get a match. He hated the waiting and had thought about returning to the workshop to continue working on the breach problem but then remembered Harry’s outburst and decided it was probably best he stay out of the man’s way for now.

“That’s it!” Cisco called in triumph, bringing up the picture of a sour faced man with a dark beard and hair who was looking at the police camera taking his mugshot like he wanted to make them eat it. “Our metahuman's name is Joseph Monteleone. Oh, he looks friendly.”

Barry looked over the information quickly, again happy that his speed allowed him to soak up information that quickly. “Monteleone was reported missing, surprise, surprise, the night of the particle accelerator explosion,” he said with a resigned sigh. “What's the connection between Monteleone and the two victims?”

“Still don’t know that yet,” Cisco told him.

Barry nodded. “I'll go see Joe. Have him run background checks on all three.”

Caitlin nodded absently, her eyes already on the tablet in her hand. “Okay, I'm gonna run some tests on the tar samples. See if I can find his weakness.”

Barry was out of the Cortex and on his way to the elevators when Cisco caught up with him. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

Barry frowned. “Yeah. Why?”

“You're going slower than normal. You clocked in at fourteen fifty miles an hour when you were out there today.”

He continued to frown, wondering what Cisco was on about. “I'm sorry, how fast do I usually run?”

“Fifteen hundred. Are you getting enough to eat?” Cisco demanded, trying to place a hand to Barry’s forehead to check his temperature.

Barry nudged his hand away. “Yes, dude, I'm fine, seriously. The difference seems negligible at fifty. Fast is fast, right?”

Cisco looked unconvinced but seemed ready to let it go for the moment. Barry slapped his friend’s shoulder in friendly reassurance and continued on his way without giving another thought to a difference of fifty miles an hour.

 

Len glanced down at his watch. Just past eight o’clock on Tuesday night and he was trying to ignore his frustration at their slow progress by distracting himself with something else. He leaned back in the office chair, staring at the screen of the new top of the range laptop on the desk and the blueprint he was creating. He swivelled around in the chair, assessing the state of the warehouse. There were still bare light bulbs and a lot of the internal walls were still missing. Not that Len was thinking of there being too many internal walls. If all of this worked out the way he planned, his crew would have their private spaces upstairs in their individual rooms. Down here on the ground floor would be open plan, the different areas only separated by furniture.

He could see Rathaway halfway down the left-hand side of the space, rearranging some of the smaller equipment in the lab space. He wanted it ‘just-so’. Baez was on her knees at the furthest end, going through boxes of medical supplies and Lisa was adding a set of newly bought coffee cups and a Keurig machine to the small existing kitchen. At the far end of the warehouse, all the vehicles were lined up by the large roller door that was meant to be for bringing goods in and out, but now had become the garage door. Len frowned, gazing thoughtfully at them. The garage was going to have to be one space that needed walls, if for no other reason than to keep the noise out when Mick decided to do regular maintenance on them. Right now, the arsonist was arranging racks of tools and shelves of spares. Len turned back to the computer making notes to add walls to the diagram later.

Getting up he pulled out his phone and headed towards Lisa.

“Anything else we need?” he asked.

“Not right now,” she told him. “Enough for coffee and snacks, but we’ll still need to be living on takeaway. This kitchen isn’t going to cut it if you intend to be living here. I know how much you love your cooking.”

Len nodded. “Okay, I’ll see if the others need stuff.”

Mick was next, and he leaned down to help his friend lift a larger box onto the shelf. “You come up with anything else you need?”

Mick stared at him, something assessing in his gaze as if he wanted to ask a question but didn’t know if this was the right time.

“Spit it out, Mick,” Len drawled, hands on his hips.

“Just wondering how long you plan to keep this up?” Mick replied, turning to grab up another box of spare parts. “It’ll make a difference if you’re truly planning to go legit like this.”

“Plan to keep it up as long as the work’s available,” Len told him honestly. “And I’d say ‘legit’ is going a bit far. Remember, we’ve already broken into a deadman’s house; without calling the cops or letting anyone know he’s missing and stole his laptop that probably has secret info on it he didn’t want anyone to find.”

Mick grunted, sliding the box onto the shelf. “Well, you’ll probably want to buy something respectable like that sedan you had earlier. Make you look less like the crook you are. Also, if you want to take this further you might want to include one o’ them fancy surveillance vans like STAR Labs uses. I’m sure the Rathaway kid could help me refit one to spec.”

“Don’t know if we need to go that far yet, but I’ll think about it. Anything else?”

“Already put my order in with Bivolo for a steady supply of donuts,” he answered. “So, it’s all good.”

Len huffed in amusement but paused as he looked at his oldest friend. “You alright with all this?” He realised now he was dragging Mick – and Lisa – down a path of his choosing, not theirs.

“You know I don’t care what we do as long as the pay day is good and I get to burn something,” Mick answered but stopped when Len continued to stare at him sceptically. “Did some thinking after your little rant a few weeks back. You’re right. We ain’t twenty any more, can’t keep climbing through second storey windows and bouncing back from bullet wounds like we used too. I’m willing to try something different, if you try to make it interesting.”

Len gave him a happy smirk. “When has life with me ever been boring?”

“The last three months,” Mick told him bluntly. “But you seem to be getting your act together. Keep it up.”

Len grinned. “Noted,” he replied and turned away, heading across to Baez.

“We could use a fully stocked bar,” Mick added as he walked away.

“Anything else you think we need?” Len asked Shawna.

She scrambled among the boxes around her and pulled out a handwritten piece of paper. “What I got so far,” she replied. “You got any conditions I need to know about?”

“Conditions?”

“Bad back, chronic migraines, diabetes, epilepsy etcetera,” she said. “Hartley already told me about his ears, and I got some ideas for pain management of Mick’s burns.”

“Nothing for me,” Len told her, scanning the list. It was broken into two parts, the top items she clearly thought were necessary, while the others seemed to be ‘nice to have’. “You think you’ll need a gurney?”

She shrugged. “Just that blood stain at the workshop made me think, it’s still going to be dangerous. And powers or not, none of us are bullet proof. If I’m going to be the one stitching us up, it’d be nice to do it on something that we can move around – put in the back of an ambulance if needed.” She looked a little fearful of the prospect.

Len frowned in thought. “True,” he conceded. “I’ll look into it. Everything else okay?”

“For the moment,” she said, looking at the boxes. “Be nice to have some proper shelving and drawers for all this though.”

“Maybe down the track,” he told her. She nodded and went back to work.

He wandered away, still gazing over the list. He thought about looking in on Rathaway next, but the kid looked totally focused on what he was doing, so Len decided not to disturb him quite yet. Instead he made his way upstairs to find Bivolo. At the far end of the building, after all the individual bedrooms, was a large open space that Len had told the artist he could set up his studio in. The guy had set up a couple of large folding tables and was currently laying out old bottles containing brushes, setting up a small rack to hold dozens of tubes of paint in various mediums and all the other pariphenalia that made up an artist’s retreat.

“Roy,” he greeted him quietly, so as not to startle the guy.

Bivolo turned, his glasses still in place, even at this time of night. Guy must really be worried about causing Fear in others again. He’d have to find time to get Hartley to work up some experiments with him, find out how to control it better.

“Hey, Snart,” he said with a brief nod. “This is a good spot. There’ll be lots of natural light from both sides.” He waved towards the broad windows on either end of the room.

“Glad you’re making yourself comfortable,” Len drawled, folding Shawna’s list and putting it in his pocket.

“Oh, here,” Bivolo said, clicking his fingers and scrabbling among some papers at the end of the table before handing one to Len.

He took it with a raised eyebrow, wondering what it was supposed to be. “You want my favourite foods?” Len demanded.

Roy shrugged, flushing a little. “Well since I’m not being much use for anything else right now, thought I might as well do this one properly. So, tell me any allergies, dislikes, all that sort of stuff and I’ll see what I can do to get it right.”

“I believe I have given you something else to do,” Len reminded him sternly.

“And I’ve already done it,” the artist replied quickly, moving to the laptop that Len had given him to work with. He picked it up from the chair it was sitting on and placed it on an empty spot on the table. “Here,” he pointed at the screen. It showed a large and detailed photograph of a green stone box that was bound with edges of gold, with inlaid with pearls and moonstones. “The Jade Coffer is a fairly modern artwork by a Polish artist. He’s well known for his beautiful carpentry boxes and chests. Specialises in inlays, veneers of incredible detail, creates pictures and images just from mixing different types of wood. He’s also a gifted sculptor and about ten years ago decided to try his hand at stone boxes. The coffer is one of his finest examples. Didn’t take much to find out it was sold to a private collector here in Central a little over two years ago,” he pulled up another screen that showed the details of the auction house catalogue. “I’ve found the same on the dagger and the minatures. They’re known, publicly held items, all legally bought and paid for. Lisa has already helped me setup alerts on the relevant dark web auction sites, so I’ll know if they come up for sale on any of those. I can’t go see my art fences until tomorrow.”

“That’s good work,” Len replied and Bivolo smiled at the praise. “That box looks heavy.”

“It is,” he told him. “And add to that the amount of stuff that was in it, it would have been a bitch to drag out of there.”

“So, someone with strength,” Len murmured, adding more variables to his list about the thief.

“Or there was more than one thief.”

Len nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still on the box on the screen. “That’s a possibility.” He turned back to Bivolo. “Let me know if you get anything from your contacts. I’ll give you a couple of my own as well. They tend to specialise in specific orders, but they do get approached by generalists from time to time. They might have had enquiries.”

“First thing tomorrow,” Roy told him. “What do you prefer for breakfast?”

Len smirked at the guy’s willingness to take such a mundane task so seriously. If he could take every situation that seriously, it bode well for his future as a Rogue. “I don’t eat cereal. Other than that, I don’t care.”

Roy nodded with a pleasant smile and went back to setting up his studio.

Len decided it was time to talk to Rathaway and made his way with purpose to the lab area where the kid was still working feverishly, drawing diagrams and making notes, just as he’d been doing the day Len had first met him. He stepped up beside the young scientist, but it wasn’t until he intruded into his space by leaning back and pressing his butt in the edge of the desk right beside him that Rathaway jumped and looked up at him, startled.

“What’s got you so focussed?” Len asked, concerned the kid was using this time for one of his own projects.

Rathaway stared down at the paper in front of him as if seeing it for the first time. “I don’t know!” he ground out in frustration shaking his hands at the paper.

Len looked down at the pad, seeing there were images that looked like soundwaves with notes on frequencies. Pretty standard stuff for the meta who was into sound. “Genuis I.Q. and you don’t know what you’re working on?”

“NO!” Rathaway burst out loudly before lowering his voice. “I know it has to do with a set of wave variables in my head and I know that I’m trying to find the counterbalance to cancel them out but I have no idea where the variables came from in the first place!” Kid ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, throwing the pad aside and tossing the pencil after it. “What can I do for you?”

Len stared for a moment, wondering if asking about this odd behaviour was worth it. He eventually decided against it. He’d ask if it became as issue. “What have you found from the samples you took?”

Rathaway swallowed and nodded quickly, grabbing up a tablet further down the table and beginning to flick through screens. “Okay, so the door was definitely melted by something incredibly hot, way hotter than any laser I’ve ever come across. It was also wider than most lasers, which is why it could melt around the vault door with such precision in such a short space of time. I haven’t been able to come up with any type of tech out there yet that can do that, but I’m still researching it. Also, the initial analysis of the powder I picked up came out with steel, concrete and paint. Everything that makes up the walls of the vault.”

“So, nothing in other words,” Len huffed out in frustration.

“Not exactly,” the kid added with a knowing smirk. “I also managed to isolate some biological residue.”

Len stared at him. “Like DNA?”

Rathaway grinned. “I’m running it now, but the sequencer you purchased isn’t exactly top of the range, it’ll take more than a few hours to get a result on who it might be.”

Len grinned back. “Good. Let me know when it’s done.”

“Will do,” the kid replied, looking back at the paper pad with a frown but shook his head, disregarding it for now. “Do you really expect me to keep sleeping on that piece of folding crap you call a bed, up there?” He gestured towards the ceiling and where the bedrooms were on the second floor.

“Only until this job is done,” Len told him. “If we get a good result, I’ll see about upgrading everyone to something more permanent. So, make sure you keep up the good work.”

Rathaway scowled and grunted in disgust but then nodded. “Fine. There’s nothing more I can do with this right now.”

“Well, Mick could use help with the garage.”

“Seriously? You expect me to help out the Neanderthal?”

Len held his gaze with a steady glare until the kid broke the contest by looking away. “Or you could help Roy with his setup.”

Rathaway grimaced again but then sighed. “Only slightly better. But okay.” He pushed the office chair back and rose, giving the paper pad one more glance before heading towards the stairs.

As he left Len gave the pad another look over. There were pages and pages of calculations, notes and diagrams. He understood little of it but the frenzy of the writing in some places seemed to indicate there was an urgency to this that Rathaway himself didn’t understand. Len frowned as he watched the kid disappear upstairs, wondering what the hell was going on in the kid’s head.

 

                Barry sat up with an agonised scream of “Noooo!”. He panted raggedly in the dark, staring around in fear and confusion for a moment before he remembered he was in his bedroom. A quick glance at the clock told him it was two in the morning. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as the inevitable footsteps in the hall outside reached his ears. There was a light knock on his door and then Joe pushed into the room, the concern on his face evident even in the low light from the streetlight filtering through the window.

                “I’m okay,” Barry murmured, grabbing up the bottle of water on the bedside table and taking a large gulp.

                “You are not okay,” Joe told him firmly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “You haven’t had nightmares this bad since I first brought you home. They’re back to three or four times a week. Now will you let me in on what’s eating at you. Please!”

                Barry sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, taking another drink before he answered. “It’s nothing that complicated, Joe. I keep seeing Zoom, killing people I love. And I’m not fast enough to stop him. Pretty easy to see what’s going on.”

                Joe didn’t say anything for a long time, just staring thoughtfully at Barry in the poor light. He knew what his foster father was thinking, what Barry himself had been thinking all this time. That he was frightened of Zoom since he broke his back. That for all his outward insistence he would beat him, inside Barry was terrified there was no way he was going to ever be fast enough to stop him. Joe took a deep breath and drew Barry into his arms, resting a comforting hand on the back of his neck.

                “No matter what you think - that your speed is the only thing that can stop him - you gotta remember that you are not alone in this, Bear,” he said, close to his ear. “We will _all_ come up with a plan to get this guy. Fast enough or not, it’s only one factor at play here. Don’t forget everyone else that’s here to help you.”

                Barry hugged him back, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

                Joe sat back then, his hand resting on the side of Barry’s face. “Try to get some sleep, we still got this Tarpit mess to work out on top of everything else.”

                “Sure,” Barry murmured, slumping back down to lay flat on the bed as Joe withdrew.

He hated this. Hated having to admit his fears. He was the hero. He’d taken on the mantle the moment he decided to use his speed to help people. He was supposed to be that bastion of strength that everyone around him could count on, look up too. But that burden never felt heavier than when he woke up screaming, knowing that inside he had more to fear than most people.

He rested an arm over his face, knowing there was no way he was going back to sleep anytime soon. He’d never come to terms with the aftermath of his nightmares, never found an effective strategy for calming his mind and body after the fright. He’d tried distracting himself, getting up for hot chocolate, reading a book, anything to preoccupy his mind. But as soon as he stopped he always found himself back to the same cycle of images and feelings that had frightened him in the first place. It took hours, sometimes the rest of the night, to get over it. He began to think about what he might try tonight when he remembered that during all his time with Len he’d only ever had one nightmare, and the man had soothed him back to sleep within a few minutes. His thief’s quiet voice, the solid presence of his body pressed against Barry’s, the feel of his scars under his hands, it had all been the most grounding comfort Barry could remember.

He had his phone in his hand and had hit his contact before he remembered it was after two o’clock. He was about to hit the end button when the call was answered.

“Hey,” Len’s soft voice, rough with sleep sounded over the device.

“Ah, hey,” Barry replied with a wince. “Sorry for waking you. Didn’t look at the time.”

“ ‘s okay. You in trouble?”

“No, nothing like that,” Barry assured him quickly. “Just couldn’t sleep that’s all. Wanted to hear your voice.”

There was silence for a beat. “Nightmare?”

Barry huffed, wondering at how Len could know him so well after so little time. “Yeah.”

“Want me to come over?” he asked, sounding completely serious.

“Joe’s here remember.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem.”

“What are you going to do, climb through my bedroom window?”

“Brace myself on the side fence, haul myself up onto the awning over the back door, and a few steps to your window, Scarlet,” he sounded smug.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, sitting up. “Have you really already scoped out -?”

“I looked into all ways of entrance when I was there at Christmas,” Len told him, sounding amused. “It just turned out to be easier to pick the lock. For a cop, West really needs to think more about home security.”

Barry stared into the dark, not knowing what to say to that.

“Do you want me to come over?” Len asked again, sounding more concerned this time.

“Ah, no, it’s okay.” He grinned then. “Although the idea of you climbing through my window is pretty romantic.”

“Been there yourself?”

“God no,” Barry admitted. “Never snuck out of the house to meet a crush.” He paused then, looking down with a grimace. “Guess I was always too hung up on Iris.”

“You had no romances in school?” Len asked, sounding curious.

“I did try with one girl, Becky Cooper,” Barry replied with another scrunching up of his face. “We dated for a semester. She turned out to be a bitch though. Just using me to help her get through physics and biology. What were you like in high school?”

“Much the same as I am now,” Len answered, and Barry could hear the grin.

“So still sexy as hell, right?”

“What makes you think that?”

“I can imagine it, tall, silent and brooding. Already in the skinny jeans, sporting a beaten-up leather jacket to go with the crappy second hand motorcycle you’ve rebuilt from scrap parts. Few to no friends. A dangerous, mysterious loner. Exactly the type all the girls would want to know more about, convinced there was a beautiful poet’s soul beneath that tough exterior.”

Len chuckled low and husky, sending a warm shiver down Barry’s backbone. “I think you might be projecting just a bit there.”

“So, I’m not right?”

“You’re not too far off, actually,” Len told him. “I did have an old jacket I’d swiped from a charity shop, and I had the bike Mick and I worked on over the weekends. But there were no girls hanging around the lonesome stranger.”

“None at all?”

“Well, there were a few. But they only wanted to hang with me because I was on the ice hockey team and they really wanted to hook-up with the captain.”

“You played ice hockey? I thought Lisa was the only skater.”

“She wanted to learn but was reluctant to go by herself, so I went with her. After we’d developed enough skill the instructor asked if I’d be interested, so I went to try outs and surprisingly the coach thought I had what it took. I played for two years before -.” There was silence on the line for a few moments before a quiet sigh. “- I pissed Lewis off, badly. He broke my leg, fractured my wrist…concussion. Told the doctors at the hospital I’d been mugged. Put me out of commission for most of a season. By the time I’d healed properly, he was back in jail and I had to drop out of school to look after Lisa. I didn’t have time to play anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Barry murmured. “Do you still skate?”

“Occasionally,” he admitted. “Lisa still likes to hit the ice a couple of times a year, so I go with her.”

“I’ve never skated,” Barry told him. “Maybe we could go some time.”

“You’re giving me all sorts of ideas for dates tonight, Scarlet.”

Barry smiled into the phone. “Dates? That’d be nice.”

“I’ll put some thought into it,” he replied, with a smile in his voice. “But while I have you on the phone, can I pick your brain?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Has The Flash ever run across a meta who can melt steel and turn invisible?”

Barry frowned thinking about it. “Well, there is Linda Park,” he replied.

“Your ex-girlfriend?”

“How do you know she’s my ex-girlfriend?”

“Oh, Barry I always kept an eye on you, especially when we were enemies.”

Barry huffed, not knowing whether to be touched or annoyed. “Ah well, no, not my ex-girlfriend as such. Her doppelganger from Earth-Two. They call her Doctor Light, Zoom sent her here to kill me a few months ago.”

“What do you know about her?”

“She’s a thief and a bank robber,” he told him. “Has the ability to harness starlight. Which means she can send out heat rays at incredible temperature. She’s the one who blinded me for a few hours – set off a bright flash of light. If I didn’t heal so fast, I could have been permanently blind. At the other end of the spectrum, she can bend light to make herself invisible. That’s how she escaped the pipeline. Turned invis, Cisco thought she’d already escaped, opened the cell and she knocked him out.”

“She’s on the loose?” Len asked, sounding interested.

“Yeah,” Barry told him. “On the run from Zoom. She’s as terrified of him as…most people. If he finds her he’ll kill her like the others who’ve failed to get me. Why so interested?”

“Might have something to do with the job I’m working,” Len admitted. “Looks like whoever the thief was, they could go unseen. Still doesn’t explain how she got in though.”

“I’d be careful of her,” Barry warned, seriously. “She accidently killed Iris’ editor when she was trying to kill this Earth’s Linda, so she could take her place. Although she didn’t strike me as the violent type overall, she’s scared and on an unknown world, she’s gonna be unpredictable.”

“Noted,” Len replied. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

Barry thought about it. He did in fact crave the comfort that came with Len’s embrace, but it was two in the morning. Once Len arrived and they got settled it’d only be a couple of hours before Barry had to leave for work. “No, not tonight.”

“Will you get any more sleep?” He sounded genuinely concerned and Barry had to smile at Len’s care for him.

“Yeah, I think I will,” Barry replied with a grin. “I now have a brooding, sexy loner on a motorcycle to dream about, and how he’d whisk me away from school, so we could play hooky together.”

Len chuckled quietly. “Well then, I’ll let you get on with that.”

“Night Len.”

“Sweet dreams, Scarlet,” he drawled with amusement before hanging up.

Barry lay back on the bed with a smile on his face. In truth he didn’t get much more sleep that night, but not because he was plagued with fears. His thoughts were full of his gorgeous thief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Len manages to get hold of the Camello culprits, but not the metal box. And Barry and Len share another quiet weekend together.


End file.
